


The List

by saucyminx



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-04
Updated: 2009-11-04
Packaged: 2017-10-28 09:32:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 59,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/306451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saucyminx/pseuds/saucyminx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's not much left for Sam to do. He can't figure out how to stop this deal from happening and he has no way to help his brother. That is, until he finds a list his brother has made of all the things he'd like to do before he dies if he had the time. Sam decides the least he can do is make sure all those things are crossed off the list before it's too late.(Death is canonical, happy ending)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_Before I die I'd like to jump out of a plane._

The notebook beneath his fingers was plain and simple. It cost less than a dollar and yet the minute he scribbled the first line he knew it was going to be worth much more than that. Dean had never been like his father, never kept a journal with useful information and resources. Now he kind of wished he had because Sam would have to go out of his way to look up some things that Dean already knew. It occurred to him he could start that now, could most likely fill up every single line without really stopping to think about it. But that was not what this book was for and he didn't really want to spend the rest of his life writing in a notebook because... well frankly he didn't have much of a life yet.

 _Go see the Grand Canyon for real. Not just talk about it like we did last year._

It was pretty unlikely he'd actually do all the things on the list but he left the line under each item empty so he could fill in a date just in case. Maybe if they happened to be in Arizona, or crossing through. The Grand Canyon was pretty fuckin' huge, no reason they couldn't swing by sometime. Sam would probably get all mopey and miserable - more than usual - if Dean let him in on the list though so he'd have to say it was just something to pass the time. Everything was something to pass the time. One step closer to the inevitable end looming in the not so distant future.

 _See the world's largest ball of Twine in Cawker, Kansas._

And seriously, _come on_ , a forty foot wide ball twine? In Kansas? How had they missed that? Dean could hardly even fathom something that big made out of something that small. From what he'd read, they even had guards who watched it to make sure that no one damaged it. The whole idea was hilarious.

Dean was sitting in the front seat of his car, Sam was in the library building printing off some facts about their current hunt. A few minutes later though when he looked up he could see his brother heading toward him and he scribbled a few more lines.

 _Eat a 72 oz. steak at The Oasis - Milton-Freewater, OR. - win a t-shirt and picture on the wall._

 _Ride all 17 roller coasters and 75 rides at Cedar Point in Sandusky, Ohio_

Clearly Dean had been watching too much travel channel during their down time in the motel. He stuffed the notebook under his seat after flipping it closed and hooking the pen on the spiral binding. Just as the passenger door was being pulled open he lifted his eyes and readjusted in his seat to recline back. "Find what we're lookin' for Sam?"

Sam huffed as he dropped into the seat, "Yeah, took a lot of reading of old newspapers that smell... bad. Dude," he sniffed his jacket, "I totally smell like those newspapers. Gross." Sam rolled his window down and leaned out a little. "You coulda helped me, would have been faster -what were you doing in here?" He scratched his head and scrunched up his nose.

"I was thinkin' about how to kill the thing, so I was helping," Dean smirked over at his brother, turning the key in the ignition and pulling them out of the parking lot. "Plus you're the researcher; I would have only slowed you down. So did you pinpoint it? Think it's a haunting?"

"Well, here," Sam brought his head back in the window and pulled his notebook out of his pocket, "we have two possibilities. Gavin Windon died in the house uhhh," he did the math in his head, "twelve years back but it was a gunshot wound to the head and I'm pretty sure that someone would have mentioned if they'd see someone who looked like that. Second possibility is Isaac Snyder, farmer, get this," he shifted on his seat, "he was run over about fifty-years ago by one of those nasty old swathers that used to be pulled by oxen." Sam shuddered unconsciously, "talk about a freak accident. I think he sounds more like our guy. What do you think?"

Dean nodded and turned the car in the direction of the house where the hauntings were taking place. "Sounds like that's our guy. Did it say where he was buried?"

Sam flipped his piece of paper over, "Hilltop Cemetery, coincidentally right behind the house. Guess that's kinda self-explanatory isn't it?" Sam grinned, brushed his hair off his face and tucked the paper back in his pocket. He was glad to see Dean interested in a hunt, interested in anything.

Since they'd talked about Dean going to Hell - they'd been through a few stages. _Denial_ was a fun one, Sam spent a couple of weeks not talking about it after Dean told him or simply saying something like _fuck off you're not going to hell._ It didn't really help things much. _Anger_ seemed to be Dean's personal favorite for a while. No matter _what_ they were doing Dean was pissed off at Sam, at the car, at whatever they were hunting. For a while Sam became accustomed to them completely over killing everything they went after. It was tiring. _Bargaining_. Sam didn't know what bargaining Dean did -but he had taken every opportunity he had when he was alone to conjure up any Demon who could possibly to something about Dean's deal. None of them wanted to touch Sam with a ten foot pole. So there went that stage.

That brought them to where Sam thought they were now, stuck somewhere between _depression_ and _acceptance_. There was no way Sam was letting Dean go to Hell; he just didn't think that Dean was quite as convinced. And so - they hunted and Sam tried to find out what he could about deals, Hellhounds and Cross-roads Demons. And Dean, well, he was Dean. He wanted to take out as many Supernatural _pieces of crap_ as he could before he went anywhere.

The hunt for the body went about as normal as any if you took into account the fact that they had to practically dig up someone's backyard. But the couple inside the house didn't seem to mind too much. They were just ready to have the thing over and done with. Dean was a little disappointed that it was over in just a flash of flame as they salted and burned the bones. He was in the mood for a good killing and this just didn't do it for him.

Dean made up for it later at dinner where he had a nice big juicy burger with fries and _two_ pieces of pie. Hell, he only had little over a half a year left, he could afford to splurge. This sparked up a whole new set of things to add to his notebook so he made a mental note to bring the thing inside with him when they got back to the motel. On the drive he passed the time by mocking Sam's choice of a chicken salad. His brother really needed to learn to live a little in his opinion but - secretly - Dean sort of loved the things that made them so different. It told him Sam wasn't likely to find himself in this place - staring down Hell's doorstep - any time soon.

When they arrived back at their motel, some nondescript joint along the interstate with flashy techno lights on its billboard, Dean slipped the notebook out from under the seat and tucked it in his jacket, holding it there while Sam unlocked the door. "You gonna shower first? Cause dude, you really need it," Dean scrunched up his face and waved a hand in front of his nose to prove his point.

"I will, but I'm not _that_ bad, what'd you put in your jacket?" Sam was juggling the debris from the car he had picked up: empty coffee cups, water bottles and empty fast food bags. He glanced over at his brother then back at the door.

Dean shrugged, heading to his duffel bag the moment they stepped inside and dropping the notebook under his coat as he slid the leather off his shoulders, laying it above the item in a flash. "Nothing. And dude, you reek. I can smell you from here. What'd you do, bathe in those newspapers?" He smirked over at his brother while he toed off his boots. In truth, Sam just smelt like Sam. A little dirtier than usual but Dean was used to that. He'd take Sam smelling however, as long as he was alive. To this day he could still remember the lingering stench of dry blood and death, it wasn't something he enjoyed recalling.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Sam dumped the trash in the small garbage can and threw his duffel on the bed. "I'm going already." Kicking off his boots and ridding himself of most of his clothes he slipped into the bathroom and turned the shower on. Padding over to the sink he stared at his reflection for a few moments. Tired, old, and dirty. He shouldn’t really looked like that at his age. There were lines on his face that hadn't even existed a few months before; he pressed his lips together. _Life_. Slipping into the shower Sam stuck his face under the hot blast of water and tried to relax for a few minutes.

Flopping down onto his bed, Dean tugged the pen off the spiral and pulled off the cap, flipping open to the first page.

 _Teach Sam to enjoy life more._

That might be one of those things he could actually do, if he put some thought into it. Of course, putting too much thought into any sentence involving the words _Sam_ and _enjoy_ usually sent his mind to places he desperately tried to ignore. Dean had used all the logic he could scrounge up to fight those thoughts. After all, they did spend a great deal of their time together. And Dean had seen the man in ways you might not even see your lover. They were closer than two people should be, or they were just close enough to keep Dean from losing his mind. Either way, dreaming about your _brother_ like that pretty much meant Dean was destined for the hell he was heading for.

 _Stay at the fanciest hotel in Vegas, whichever one that is._

 _Go to the top of the Empire State Building._

 _Go to New York City at all._

 _Skinny dip._

Dean blinked down at his notebook, feeling just a little more relaxed with just the knowledge that he could admit to all the things that he'd yet to experience. They weren't exactly things everyone did. Which basically meant he'd lived a pretty full life. As much as you could consider the life of a hunter full.

The shower turned off and Dean closed the book, recapping the pen and tucking it on the spiral once more. He slid it under his pillow and pushed off the bed, walking to his duffel as he pulled off his own shirt. He knew Sam would most likely come out in a towel and that just... was one of the more difficult things to ignore. At least the way it sent heat rolling through him like thunder and got him practically, instantly hard. So he focused on slipping off his jeans, readying to cross into the room as soon as Sam was near his duffel bag and out of direct eye sight.

The bathroom was still steamy from Sam's shower but he wasn't in there long enough to use up all the hot water so Dean flicked on the spray and stripped the rest of the way, climbing in and relaxing under the heat. He could feel his lower regions stir at the thought of Sam standing in this very spot, naked and wet just moments before. Dean groaned and gave in to the urge, hand sliding down as tried not to think about his brother and failed miserably.

 _Teach Sam to know when to work on Baby._

 _Go to Canada and find a moose._

 _Try sushi. Try not to puke afterwards._

 _Ride a horse._

 _Go camping and sleep under the stars._

 _Get a professional massage._

 _Fall asleep being held._

Dean had sent Sam out to acquire them breakfast, insisting the man owed him. It had got him a loud scoff and the hard roll of his brother's eyes but the laughter he'd gained from it had been worth those things. Sam didn't really owe him. Not for the death thing at least. For being the most bad ass brother ever? Totally.

He'd then dropped down onto the table and lost himself in working more on his list. Some of the ideas were a little out there, some made him flinch slightly at how ridiculously sappy they were, but it wasn't like he was going to share it with anyone so he could handle it as a private thing. He'd been so lost in thought he didn't hear the car pull up - though he was usually hyper aware of those things - so it was not until the door was being pushed open that he closed his notebook. Pretending like there was nothing odd about the fact that he'd been sucking on the end of his pen and staring at a notebook, Dean crossed the room and tucked the item into his duffel. "Did you get pancakes? With extra bacon and sausage?" He asked over his shoulder.

Shaking his head, "I got you extra everything, what you writing?" Sam slid the bag toward Dean and pulled his jacket off throwing it on the end of the bed. He sank down into the chair next to Dean’s and reached into the bag pulling out rather a lot of food for two people. But, it was pretty hard not to just get Dean everything he wanted, after all... Sam smiled at Dean and swallowed. Hard. He put some Styrofoam cartons in front of Dean and pulled out a smaller bag with a muffin and a container of yogurt for himself. "Oh! I almost forgot," he stood quickly and walked back to his jacket and searched through the pockets, “here." He handed Dean a miniature version of the Impala with a broad grin on his face.

"Dude," Dean took it, spreading his fingers and letting the miniature car sit in his palm. He beamed at Sam after a moment, blatantly ignoring whatever it was that stirred in his gut. "This is fuckin' awesome. Where did you find it?" He set the car beside the closet carton, grinning at it while he flipped open the lid and reached for the nearest fork.

Looking very pleased with himself Sam took a huge bite out of his muffin and chewed for a bit, then swallowed, "I was looking in the window of this collector place while I was waiting for your breakfast. Thought you might like it." He loved the pleased expression on his brother's face. It was so easy to make Dean happy these days, maybe, things had shifted a bit in Dean's mind. As much bravado as he had about things, maybe Dean was seeing things differently. "So, what were you writing?"

Dean had been hoping to avoid the question but Sam was too smart for that sort of thing. He should have known better. "Just stuff..." he shrugged and stuffed his mouth full of fluffy, syrupy pancakes. Moaning at the taste orgasm that exploded across his tongue, he cut himself another bite. "So any idea where we're going next? I put in a call to Bobby but he doesn't have anything major that needs our attention."

"Dude, that's..." Sam grimaced, "don't... don't make that sound when you eat. It gives me a no feeling." Sam tossed his muffin down on the paper. "I got nothing, we could just keep driving the same direction till we find something. Or stay here for a bit - chill out. What do you feel like doing?" He found himself asking that a lot more lately. Maybe, it was not wanting to limit Dean's possibilities.

Dean turned over a few thoughts in his mind, calculating distances silently as he chewed on his food. After a few minutes he focused his attention wholly on his breakfast as he said, "Well it'd be about a day’s drive to Arizona from here. We could head that way. Get some sun. See if anything turns up?" He stuffed more food into his mouth, reaching out to grab his coffee and purposefully not looking toward Sam in case his eyes gave away the idea that there might be more to that suggestion then a potential hunt and getting sun.

"Sure, why not?" Sam shrugged. "Good a place as any. Dry and warm at this time of year, I'm in favor of that." Peeling the top off his yogurt container he stuck a spoon in it and stirred. "You keeping a journal?" He had seen Dean putting something away and it looked like he'd been writing in it. It seemed a little out of character for his brother, but whatever.

Trying not to sigh, Dean really wished that his brother would just let things go sometimes. He'd add that idea to the list but well, it would be one of those things that would _never_ come true. "Just jottin' down a few things I want to remember," he mumbled and stuck a piece of bacon in his mouth. "You know it wouldn't kill you to eat some meat every now and then. Like bacon. Bacon is _fantastic_." He held up a piece and waved it toward his brother. "Try the bacon. It'll do wonders for you."

"Clog up my arteries and send me to an early gra…" Sam's mouth snapped shut, his chest muscles clenching a little. "Dean, I'm sorry... I didn't..." _Fuck_ , he hated it when things like that just popped out of his brain these days. It was amazing how many common phrases held so much more weight now than they used to. Sam reached out and took the bacon, staring down at it blinking.

Guilt tripping his brother into eating bacon? Definitely the highlight of Dean's morning. The phrase didn't sting the way Sam thought it would, in fact he felt worse about the fact that it hurt Sam so much to say. Dean had kind of come to grips with the whole dying soon thing. There was no way around it. He did it so that Sam would live and that was what was important. "One piece of bacon is _not_ going to kill you," he snorted and arched his eyebrows as Sam bit down on the food. "Good right? Don't tell me you don't like it just a little bit." Dean grinned and stabbed a sausage link with his fork, bringing it to his mouth.

"It's good, a little salty mind you." Sam chewed the bacon a few times more than he needed to trying to distract himself from that falling sensation in the pit of his stomach; the one that appeared every time he thought about being _without_ Dean at some point. Sometimes, he felt like he wouldn't even know what to do when the time came. Shaking his head, Sam glanced over at his brother's face. It was ridiculous that something as simple as Sam eating a piece of bacon brought a smile to Dean's face. "Can I have a sausage?"

"Damn, didn't think you'd be so easy to convert," Dean leaned back in his chair and gestured toward the carton. "Help yourself." He knew he was grinning like an idiot but it almost felt a little like he was working on something from his list. Teaching Sam to live a little. Have a piece of bacon or sausage every now and then and not beat yourself up about it. "So what do you say, Arizona?" Dean sipped on his coffee, watching Sam move toward the sausage with still curved lips.

Sam stabbed at a sausage with his the extra fork from the bag and bit into the end of it. "Yeah sure, can we stop and see the Painted desert if we go by it? I've never seen that - I've heard it's pretty cool." Sam chewed on the sausage; it was actually quite good even if it wasn't terribly good for him. It had been worth it for the grin on Dean's face. "Anything in particular about Arizona that interests you?"

Turning the cup in his hand, Dean lifted his shoulder in a casual shrug, watching Sam take another bite of the food with a growing grin. "Well last year we talked about the Grand Canyon. We travel everywhere and have never been, we should swing by. See what all the fuss is about." Dean shifted back to his food, once more cutting into the pancakes. "Personally I have no idea what's so special about a big hole in the ground but whatever."

Sam studied his brother's face carefully as he chewed another bite of sausage. _A big hole in the ground_ , didn't ring quite true but he wasn't going to argue with anything that Dean expressed the slightest bit of interest in. Admittedly, Sam was glad the string of one night stands with gorgeous chicks was over. He'd really gotten tired of waiting in the car while Dean worked his magic on someone different every night. Another stage he guessed - that whole _sex and death_ thing. The smile slid off Sam's face. He finished the sausage and put his fork down, "was good."

"Told ya," Dean nodded and dropped his fork as well, rubbing his stomach. "I'm stuffed." He pushed back from the table and stretched his legs out, groaning as he brought his arms high above his head and tensed all his muscles then let them relax gradually. "So you wanna do the map quest thing or whatever? Have we ever even _been_ to Arizona?" He chuckled as he pushed up and headed for his duffel bag.

"Yeah, you got whacked on the side of the face by a flying clock," Sam started to laugh, "in the b..bookstore," he was trying really hard not to laugh but it was the memory of how indignant Dean was. He was _so_ mad at the clock for hitting him he'd smashed it to pieces, stomping on it. When Sam managed to get a grip on himself he was still grinning, "Mesa." When Dean looked confused - Sam thought about it for a few more moments, "Short blond waitress with a tattoo of a dragonfly on her forearm. You said," Sam shuddered, "she could do this thing with her tongue..."

Stopping for a moment to think back, Dean's face lit up as the memory surged forward. " _Oh_ yeah. The thing with the tongue..." he grinned and turned back to his duffel bag, kneeling to pull out a clean pair of socks. "And I remember that clock thing. Stupid ass..." he mumbled to himself about it as he crossed to the bed with his boots. Sam was still chuckling slightly and Dean arched an eyebrow at him. "Are you just about done chuckles? I'd like to get on the road before the manager comes knockin' for another day's pay."

"Just waitin' on you." Sam smiled, his lips twitching as he tried not to laugh again. Slinging his duffel over his shoulder he pulled the door open, "let's go - we don’t need a map yet, we know we gotta to south west. Even you can't get lost with that direction." He darted out the door and jogged to the car.

Rolling his eyes, Dean couldn't help the small smile that played across his lips as he moved to retrieve his bag and coat and follow his brother out the door, snagging one last piece of bacon and his coffee.

There was something really relaxing about driving and knowing there wasn't necessarily something waiting for them at the end of the journey. Of course he knew they'd find a hunt - maybe even one in the state - but they weren't heading directly into one. Dean didn't have to start preparing his mind for what might come next, didn't have to work through different scenarios of what might be's and what if's. Instead he could lose himself in the familiarity of driving, zone out while staying just enough with it to be aware of the endless stretch of road ahead of him. At this particular moment in time, Dean didn't have to _worry_ and that was nice.

Sam dozed off and on in the seat beside him and occasionally his eyes would shift over to the long expanse of the man's legs. He could remember a time when Sam's feet didn't even hit the floor mat of the Impala. Of course back then it was their dad driving, Dean sitting closest to the door with Sam curled up in between them. Back then, before death and deals and _hell_ , things had been much simpler. Then Dean had grown up - Sam along with him - and they entered this new world where everything seemingly always fell over the line into complicated.

From the angle he sat Dean could trace all the curves of Sam's body that had changed and sharpened over the years. His jaw line was much firmer, a nice defined shape with cheekbones slightly higher than his own. Dean knew a lot of his looks came from his father, while a lot of Sam's came from their mother. Then there were those things they shared like their height - even if Sam was taller - and their overall build. Dean preferred the shape of Sam's nose to his own, along with the way his muscles only made him look toned and healthily fit, while Dean's sort of made him look stocky - in his opinion. Plus Sam had those killer hazel eyes that changed colors at the weirdest times. They weren't open now but Dean knew they'd probably be closer to brown than anything else, since the Arizona desert was surrounding them on all sides.

Dean had to stop himself from considering his brother any further. It was sick and twisted and if he wasn't already going to hell... well let's just say there was a special hand basket just for him. The sign up ahead mentioned something about the Grand Canyon but it passed too quickly for Dean to figure out which way it said to turn. So he reached out, laying a hand on his brother's arm and squeezing the muscle. "Dude, navigators aren't supposed to sleep on the job. Should I be turning somewhere soon?"

Sam sucked in a deep breath and shot up in the seat, "I... we... where are we?" Yawning, he fumbled sleepily through the papers on the seat behind him looking for the map. "If you've stayed on the _right_ road," he said a little prissily, "it should be on the right." Sam slid back down against the seat and let the map flop down in his lap. He had no idea how Dean always managed to look so awake when he was driving. Sam could count the number of times Dean had asked him to drive on one hand. "We almost there?" He looked out the passenger window.

"Yeah I think about an hour or two left," Dean's eyes scanned the road ahead, pulling to a stop at a turn. The sign in front of him had two arrows, one for the north ledge of the canyon and one for the south. Shrugging and glancing over at Sam - who also shrugged - he turned for the north ledge. "Suppose that doesn't make much difference," he mumbled and shifted in his seat, curling and uncurling his fingers on the steering wheel. "You can go back to sleep if you want. I'll wake you when we get to the motel."

Sam sat up straighter, "can't I go and look at it too? Dude! I didn't come all the way out here to sit in the car!?" Sam was almost indignant. There was no way he wasn't going to get out and see something as big as the Canyon. "Isn't it... like one of the Wonders of the world or something?" His eyes drifted back to Dean's face, and he found himself wondering briefly if they were here _because_ of the canyon.

Glancing over at Sam, Dean couldn't resist the slight smirk. "Are you done? Cause dude, it's gonna be dark by the time we get there so we're not going tonight, hence the motel. We'll go tomorrow and I just sort of assumed you'd come. I also heard there's an IMAX theatre that plays this movie about it, apparently filmed from a helicopter or something, we can go see that tonight if you want." Dean fixed his gaze on the road this time, thinking he probably sounded pretty weird right then and wondering what Sam would make about his sudden knowledge about the thing. Seriously, way too much travel channel.

Narrowing his eyes a little Sam licked his lips. "Oh." He hated waking up when they were in the car, he never had any idea what time it was or where they were. "Wait... how do you know there's an IMAX? And why would we go to that when we're gonna see the real thing tomorrow." Sam started searching around the car for something to eat; he flipped open the glove box and slammed it shut, then bent over and started rooting around under the seat.

"I saw it on TV and you don't get to see the thing from the sky. Plus, IMAX dude. That's pretty much a given that it's gonna be cool- Sam, what are you lookin' for?" Dean glanced over at his brother, frowning slightly.

"I'm hungry," he grinned and leaned over and started patting Dean's pockets, "you got any food on ya?"

Dean jerked the wheel for a moment before straightening it out and swatting at Sam's hands. "Stop you're gonna make us crash and I'll beat your ass," he laughed and shoved at his brother's arm. "We'll eat when we get there. It'll teach you a lesson about ordering fuckin' tuna sandwiches for lunch. Tuna, man. Seriously." Dean chuckled more but reached into the pocket furthest from Sam, pulling out a Snickers and tossing it to him. "That'll hold you over."

"Aww you're awesome." Sam tore into the wrapper and started gnawing away at the end of the chocolate bar. "Let's stay in a nice motel tonight; we got a bit of spare money right?" His mouth was full of chocolate bar but he was pretty sure that Dean understood him.

Smiling slightly, Dean nodded. "Yeah okay. But you're doing the hustling next time around. That last dude looked like he wanted to flay me when I kicked his ass at pool." He chuckled and once more shifted on the seat. "Give me some of that," he turned slightly, holding out his hand.

Handing the chocolate bar to Dean, Sam turned and looked out the window again. "It's beautiful out here." As soon as he'd said it he flinched and waited for his brother to mock the hell out of him for it. It was, generally, what Dean did whenever Sam said anything remotely _Sam-like_.

Chewing on the chocolate, Dean tossed the rest of the candy back at his brother and looked around them. "Yeah. It is." He licked at the smear of chocolate on his lips and fixed his eyes once more to the road ahead. It felt good to know he'd be seeing the Grand Canyon, even if he was fairly certain he wasn't going to be that impressed. Over hype and all. But it was something he'd be able to cross of his list and that was actually pretty cool. And Sam seemed pretty relaxed by the idea, which he sure hadn't been about anything recently so that was another plus.

Stuffing the rest of the chocolate bar in his mouth, Sam leaned over and rested his hand on Dean's forehead. It was _absolutely_ unlike Dean to pass up an opportunity to mock him. He chewed for a while, removed his hand, swallowed and looked back out the windshield. "Christo."

"Dude. I'm gonna pull over and make you walk the rest of the way. Shut up." Dean rolled his eyes and reached out to smack his brother's arm for good measure.

Sliding back down on the seat again, Sam rocked his leg back and forth for a while. He stared up at Dean, "how long till we get to the motel?"

Dean shrugged and stayed quiet until the next distance sign appeared. He pointed at it and said, "Half hour. You gotta piss or something? There's a cup in back," Dean smirked, reaching back over his seat to fumble around until he pulled up a cup and threw it at Sam. "Get it on my seat and you're gonna spend tomorrow detailing."

Shaking his head, Sam knocked the cup out of his brother's hand, "jackass, I'm bored. Entertain me." Sam turned on the seat and pulled one long leg up. "We need a bigger car. What's your best memory - of you and me? Like if you were gonna explain to someone what it's like having me for a brother what would you tell 'em?" Sam watched his brother's face.

"That you're an annoying piece of shit that talks too much?" Dean snorted and smacked Sam's leg. "And there is _nothing_ wrong with this car. You know it. Just be grateful I let you ride in her," he glanced over at Sam, laughing at his brother's scrunched up expression of annoyance. "Yeah yeah, alright. My best memory?" Dean hummed thoughtfully, skimming through the years and memories. "When I taught you how to ride your bike. Or the day you finally got it down. Both your knees were banged up and your hand bled so bad we had to put a band aid on it but when you finally got it... you looked at me and said something like, see Dean! I can do it!" Dean chuckled softly, letting his fingers slide along the steering wheel. "I was so proud of you for sticking with it even if you threatened to throw the bike away at least a dozen times."

Smiling slightly, Sam turned to look out the window. "I like that one... that's a good one." He bit down on his bottom lip as he watched the landscape speed by. Most of Sam's memories of growing up were about Dean. Dean had pretty much been everything to Sam for his whole life; that's why he was so determined _not_ to lose him.

Dean glanced over at him curiously before looking back at the road. "Well, don't hold out on me. What's yours?"

"It hasn't happened yet." Sam kept staring out the window, fighting back the prickling sensation of tears in his eyes, "it's gonna be the day I get to tell you I figured out how to break the deal." He didn't expect much of a response; didn't really care if Dean gave him shit again for still harping on it. That was what he wanted to happen.

The words made Dean's heart lurch unpleasantly and he sighed softly. They'd been down this road so many times in the past few months. Dean had already given in to the fact that there was no way out of this deal but he knew his brother. Knew the man wasn't likely to stop trying until it happened. And Dean was _really_ looking forward to the next day, he didn't want to start the trip off on this foot. So he forced back any words he was going to say and they finished the drive in silence.

True to his word Sam picked a Motel than looked a hell of a lot nicer than the ones they usually stayed at. For once he wasn't afraid to take his shoes off and walk around in the room in his socked feet which was a nice change. Dean seemed most pleased with the crisp white sheets on the bed and went on about how great they smelled. Sam's first stop was the shower. It was awesome. The water pressure was great and there were little bottles of shampoo and conditioner and even some body lotion. Even though Dean complained about the smell of all the bathroom stuff, Sam smiled when he noticed that Dean smelled the same way when _he_ came out of the bathroom a short time later.

By the time Dean was settled in bed later that night after IMAX – which had been awesome actually – Sam had found _Predator_ on TV which amused his brother to no end. They laughed a lot, pointed out all the gaps in the plot and Sam fell asleep about half way through holding the remote in his hand. Dean started over at his brother for a while, got out of bed, slid the remote out of Sam's hand and got back into bed. He watched the end of the movie by himself, the light from the TV dancing over the walls of the room. He flicked off the TV when the movie finally finished, whispered goodnight to Sam and moaned happily when he buried his face in the fresh smelling pillow.

Even though he'd gone to bed long after Sam, Dean still woke up first. Maybe it was an excitement thing, he didn't really know. But he slid out of bed and padded across the plush carpet, dropping down into a sitting position by his duffel bag and pulling out his notebook. Taking the cap of the pen, he drew a thin line through _Go see the Grand Canyon for real. Not just talk about it like we did last year,_ and wrote the date beside it, just for a point of reference.

After glancing up at Sam and ensuring the man was still asleep, he added a few more things that had sprung up in the last twenty four hours.

 _Climb a mountain._

 _Swim in the Atlantic._

 _Hold hands while driving._

 _Stay up ALL night watching horror movies and pointing out the mistakes._

 _Eat only chocolate for one day._

 _Shower in a waterfall._

Tucking the notebook back in the duffel, Dean pulled out his jeans and stepped easily into them before crossing to his brother's bed and smacking his leg. "Wake up Sammy! We're going to the Grand Canyon." He tugged on his shirt, yanking the pendant out so it fell across the material.

Sam reached out blindly and grabbed another pillow and dragged it over his head. "S'too early" he mumbled from under the pillow. He stretched out, star fishing across the entire bed, "the bed's actually big enough for me," he whined.

Chuckling at his brother, Dean leaned his knee on the edge of the mattress before jumping forward to sprawl across the man's back, pressing him down hard into the mattress. "We'll spend another night here but _c'mon_ I wanna go! Plus it's after ten and I'm _starving_." He bounced slightly and laughed even harder.

"Oh my _God_ , what're you twelve?" Sam flailed around underneath Dean then grabbed the pillow and whacked at his brother with it. "Move your ass offa me and I'll get dressed." He whacked Dean with the pillow as he said each word, just for good measure.

Still laughing, Dean rolled off his brother and sat up, rubbing at his head. "You're gonna give me a fuckin' concussion with pillow abuse," he informed, threading his fingers through his hair before crossing to the bathroom. "I'm leavin' in five. So you best be ready." He spun to grin at Sam before closing the bathroom door.

Sam rubbed his eyes for a few moments and climbed out of the bed yawning and stretching. He dressed quickly and flopped back down on the bed after he managed to get his boots on. He was still lying there when Dean came back out of the bathroom. "You're late," Sam muttered, "you said five minutes. It's been six. We have a canyon to go see." He was grinning at the ceiling.

"We do and after all these billions of years there's the possibility it might just vanish so we better get a move on," he smacked Sam's leg as he walked by, grabbing his car keys from the table and stuffing them in his pocket. "Breakfast first though."

They ate breakfast at the same place they had dinner at and the food was just as good. Dean smiled warmly at the waitress, who was quick to tell them what paths were the best for walking if they wanted the best views of the canyon. As he was going to pay the bill he spotted a rack of disposable cameras and he bought one on a whim. No use in going to see one of the Seven Wonders of the World if you didn't take pictures of it too. They were back in the car before too long and Dean followed the winding road and abundance of road signs until they finally reached a parking lot with a trail that led up to the canyon.

It was _huge_ but Dean already knew that. He'd seen the thing many times before on TV and in pictures. But actually _seeing_ it kind of blew his mind. "Damn..." he exhaled slowly and stared at the wide expanse of red rock and wide open space. "It's... damn." Dean repeated slowly and took a few steps forward until he could lean against the rail and peer over the edge. He could just barely see the bottom where a river was winding along. "Jesus it's insane."

Sam spent a lot of time staring down over the edge. "It's bigger than I expected," he said, "makes me wanna throw something in."

Chuckling softly, Dean had to admit he was feeling the same way. But all the signs threatened huge fines if you did that so he bent down and picked up a fairly good sized rock, holding it out for Sam. "Throw that. I'll do something for you if you can get it to the other ledge." He grinned at Sam in challenge.

"Dude, that's a long way, and I'll get fined." Sam looked around guiltily.

"It's a rock. What are they gonna do?" Dean looked around. "And I don't see anyone." He rocked forward and bumped his shoulder against Sam's. "C'mon, you know you wanna try."

Sam threw the rock back and forth a couple of times in his hands, looked back over his shoulder then hauled his arm back and threw the rock as hard as he could. Naturally, the rock started its downward slope long before it reached the other side. Sam watched it fall until he couldn't see it anymore, "see? No point in trying."

"No. The point is that you _did_ try," Dean said softly and reached into his pocket to pull out the disposable camera. "Sometimes you have to do things Sam, even if you already know the outcome and you think it's useless." He shrugged and snapped a serious of shots of the wide canyon, turning the camera to catch his brother in a few. Dean brought the camera down and grinned. "It was worth it huh?"

Nodding, Sam moved over to Dean and snatched the camera out of his hand tugged Dean under his arm and held the camera out to snap a photo of them together. He turned slightly and pulled Dean into a hug, not really knowing why, it just seemed like it was special to be there. He took a deep breath, noticing the smell of Dean's leather, the Motel shampoo and _just_ Dean.

Dean allowed himself a moment to cling to his brother, to lay his head against the man's shoulder and take in every bit of him. Then his skin began to tingle and that stirring of suppressed thoughts started creeping up and Dean pulled back, forcing himself to laugh. "Jeez Sammy, gettin' all emotional on me?" He smiled and reached up to ruffle Sam's hair. "Come on, let's go do the skywalk. You know you can actually see _through_ the platform so it's like you're walking on air?" He grinned and grabbed Sam's sleeve to tug him along.

They saw pretty much everything they could in one day's time. Even if each ledge was virtually the same thing, Dean still found himself being blown away at each sight. There was a little shack that sold a variety of food and Dean took great pleasure in eating there if only because there was virtually _nothing_ on the menu that wasn't cooked in a pool of grease. Despite his complaints, Sam seemed to thoroughly enjoy his burger and fries so Dean knew it was alright.

The camera's pictures were full before they'd reached mid afternoon. Dean had no idea what they would do with the pictures when they get them developed but it was kind of nice to know that they were there. As they were driving home later - both completely exhausted from the constant sun beating down on them all day and the fact that they'd done more walking in one stretch then they had in months put together - Dean thought he would take one of those pictures and tape it into his notebook. And underneath he would write something to Sam, so later, when he was gone, Sam could know how important this day was to him.

Sam practically passed out the moment they stepped into their motel room and Dean couldn’t help but smile fondly at him. "C'mon Sammy, gonna get you comfy," he said softly, slipping his hands under the man’s arms and tugging him up further on the mattress. "You're gonna regret wearing your clothes to sleep, get 'em off." He tugged at Sam's boots, tossing them across the room.

Sam didn't bothering opening his eyes, just tugged clumsily at his t-shirt until it was stuck half on and half off, wrapped over his face. "Help," he murmured.

Laughing warmly, Dean worked the material beneath his fingers, managing to lift Sam up slightly and tug off the cotton, tossing it toward his brother's duffel bag. When his eyes dropped once more, Dean found himself staring down into the slightly flushed features of his brother's face. His hair was ruffled, sticking up in most directions, and his cheeks were slightly pink from the exertion and the sun. Every line on his face was smooth and his chest rose and fell slowly as if sleep had already consumed him. Dean's eyes locked on the soft curve of the man's lips and he leaned down just an inch or two before straightening up.

Swallowing, Dean made quick work of the button and zipper on Sam's jeans, tugging off the denim and tossing it to join the shirt. He left Sam above the blanket, knowing the room was warm enough and Sam would manage to climb under should he happen to get cold later. That and Dean was fairly certain if he touched Sam there was the distinct possibility he would lose control over his actions. Which clearly couldn't happen.

Tugging his own shirt off, Dean headed to the duffel bag and dropped the material before slipping out of his jeans. After a moment he knelt and pulled out the notebook, tugging up the pen and flipping to the page where the list had left off.

Later, notebook stashed away once more, lights off, tucked under the cool fluffy sheets, Dean couldn't stop the words from burning into his mind the moment his eyes slipped closed. If it were possible to dream about words, Dean was fairly certain he did that night.

 _Kiss Sam._


	2. Chapter 2

_Find out of the Lizzie Borden House is really haunted. If so, solve the problem._

 _Go to Mardi gras._

 _Watch the sunrise with someone._

 _Spend a week eating the same thing Sam eats to prove that I can be just as healthy. (Probably after the day of only chocolate)._

 _Make an origami crane._

 _Go on a picnic._

They left Arizona the day after the Grand Canyon trip - but not before Dean had a chance to scribble a few more things on his list and just barely resist the urge to cross off _that_ one. He had to dodge a few curious questions from Sam and in the end he could tell his brother was not satisfied with his attempts to pass it off as nothing but there was absolutely no _way_ he was telling Sam about it. Not now anyway. Maybe later but that was still up for debate and even then he thought he might tear out the to-do pages and just leave the other stuff.

Sam found something promising as a hunt in Utah so they head north. Half way there Dean glanced down and noticed they were running low on fuel. He pulled into a gas station and got out, planning on a quick check of the oil level and possibly a quick refill and allowing Sam to continue to relax in the passenger seat, but the words from his notebook crept to the front of his mind. Not _those_ words - even though they seemed to be constantly there now that he'd actually written them - but the ones about teaching Sam. When his eyes noticed a fray on the v-belt, he made up his mind. Crossing to the passenger’s side, Dean leaned around the hood to call out to his brother, "Know how to change a v-belt?" He asked, turning to look at Sam.

Sam blinked at his brother then his brow furrowed and he smirked. "Me? Of course I don't. I don't even know what one is." Sam was leaning out the open passenger window staring over at his brother. "Y..You want me to get out?" Sam kept blinking, wondering what the hell was going on.

"Yeah, get out, I'll show you how," Dean moved back in front of the car, stuffing his hands in his pockets. When Sam came around to join him he smiled softly and gestured toward the car. "So the v-belt runs things like the alternator, power steering, the water pump... you get a bit of warning when it's gonna go, it gets really frayed too? Kind of a warning that it needs to be fixed. You see it?"

"You mean like _Where's Waldo?_ " Sam stared down at the engine like it actually made some sort of sense to him. It didn't, of course, but he was smart - it couldn't be _that_ hard. Sam pressed his lips together and glanced at Dean out of the corner of his eye. "Okay - that thing," he pointed to a black rubber looking belt thing. It looked like a belt, after all.

Nodding, Dean watched his brother's expression. "Okay. We've gotta go inside and see if they have one that'll fit _before_ we take it off." He couldn't help smirking a little knowing Sam wasn't likely keen on the idea of reaching anywhere near the overheated parts of the car.

Sam stared at his brother for a moment then leaned over the side of the car and then looked back up at Dean. "Okay," he wasn't really sure what was with the sudden need to teach him but hell, they'd been doing stranger things lately. Grand Canyon, changing engine belts. This was his brother.

Sam trailed along behind Dean while he chatted with the local mechanic, got them a new belt and some tool Sam couldn't remember the name of which seemed to be really important. Over an hour later Sam and his white undershirt were covered in black engine grease and he was leaning against the front fender drinking a beer, feeling _quite_ proud of himself. It was the first time he'd ever done anything particularly mechanical and it had turned out well. It didn't really matter than Dean had talked him step-by-step through the entire thing. Dean had a great smile on his face and he actually looked a little relaxed; Sam felt like he'd done something _distinctly_ worthy of a cold beer.

Except for the fact that he was filthy and over-heated, Sam actually would consider working on the car again someday. "Hey, Dean thanks." He looked out from under his bangs at his brother, smiling.

Dean smiled around the rim of the beer bottle, bringing it up to sip the bitter liquid. "No problemo Sammy, it's good stuff for you to know," he knew there'd still be a few things he'd have to teach Sam as far as the car was concerned but changing a v-belt was a big deal so it was comforting just to know Sam would be able to look for the signs. "Remind me to get you to help next time I change the oil; it's pretty simple once you learn the steps." Dean rolled the muscles in his shoulders before heading around to the back seat and his duffel. Leaning in he tugged out the notebook and scribbled the date under the line about teaching Sam to work on baby. There was a pretty good chance they'd get in late and he didn't want to forget. Once it was done he stuffed the notebook back in his bag and shut the door, leaning against it and glancing at Sam. Damn his brother looked good smeared with grease like that.

"What's with the book, Dean?" Sam called out as he wiped his forehead with his arm and took a sip of beer. It was good to see Dean happy.

Of course in his eagerness to have another thing on his list crossed off, Dean had completely spaced the fact that Sam would most likely dip down and watch him through the window. Frowning slightly, he took a long pull from his beer bottle, leaning heavier on the car and setting the bottle on the roof. "Just a thing," he shrugged, tipping back the bottle to finish the contents. "Ready to hit the road again?"

"Dude, I'm disgusting. I'm covered in grease and I'm all sweaty." Taking another gulp of beer he walked around to lean on the car by Dean. "Look at me!" Sam scratched the side of his nose leaving a smear of grease on his face.

Dean tilted his head to the side and swallowed. He had _no_ problem looking at his brother. A bead of sweat was making its way down the taut flesh of the man's neck, disappearing in the collar of his shirt. Dean dragged his tongue across his lips, imagining what it might be like to lean in and lick that line of sweat off the flesh. With only his white undershirt on Dean could make out all the lines and curves of muscles along Sam's arms, smooth, sun kissed skin stretched tight, flexing as he moved. Heat pooled low in Dean's gut and he shifted on the car. There was a smear of grease along Sam's wrist and Dean's eyes fixed on it for a long moment before he reached out and ran his thumb along the flesh, over and over until the grease had vanished from Sam's skin was smeared along the pad of his thumb instead.

Sam's brow furrowed slightly as he watched Dean's thumb move over the sensitive skin of his wrist. His eyes moved with Dean's thumb, back and forth across the dark smudge of grease watching it disappear. The touch was warm, and Sam's heart ached a litte. It felt like one of those touches that Sam should pay attention to, soak up, commit to memory. When the last of the grease was gone and Dean's thumb lingered there for a moment, Sam smiled the cleared his throat. "It'll take a long time for me to... get clean that way."

Pulled out of his daze by Sam's voice, Dean lifted his eyes, cleared his throat and let his hand drop. His skin tingled from its far too brief contact with Sam's and he forced himself to chuckle as a cover for the way his heart beat double time. "My thumb would definitely get tired," he pulled his arms up to fold across his chest and shifted his hips against the car. "So... we'll stop for the night then. Give you a chance to shower. I could use a break anyway," Dean forced himself to swallow a few more times and he slid just a little further from Sam, knowing without the distance he'd probably find himself touching Sam again.

Sam downed the rest of his beer and moved to open the passenger door. He shook the rest of the beer out of the bottle and slid it under the passenger seat. He couldn't help a last glance at Dean as he got in the car; it was one of those pictures he wanted to remember. Dean was leaning on the roof of the Impala, lit from behind by the last afternoon sun. If he had a camera in his mind - that would be the way he would want to keep a picture of Dean. Pressing his lips together Sam pinched the bridge of his nose for a few moments. When he looked back up his voice was thick, "ready to go?" Without waiting for an answer he slid into the front seat.

Dean's gaze shifted toward Sam’s face, detecting the note of something in his voice that shouldn't be there. "Okay..." he said softly and tugged open his door, sliding in and glancing over at Sam. Wetting his lips once more, Dean reached out and briefly rested his hand on Sam's bare shoulder. "Everything okay?" His fingers tightened around the flesh and he dipped his head, trying to catch his brother's eyes.

 _No, I might lose the only person in the world who matters to me._ Sam slipped his hand over Dean's for a few moments, squeezed his brother's hand and then turned to look out the passenger window. "I... yeah... sometimes it's just," he swallowed, "hard." He let his hand fall back to his lap. "Let's go, I need a shower."

There was no need to ask what was hard, Dean already knew. He had those moments too, when he looked at Sam and thought about the place he was destined to go. About the idea of never seeing him smile again, or hearing him laugh. It didn't really matter what else happened to him in hell, that would be torture enough. "Okay," he nodded and dropped his hand, shifting to turn the key in the ignition. It was going to be one of those silent nights he could already tell. Even if it only took half an hour to find a motel along the side of the road and there was still a few good hours before the sun set. Dean figured the amount of words they'd share that night would probably be countable on one hand.

And he was right.

Sam headed off to the shower the minute the stepped into the motel room and Dean sighed softly as he dropped his duffel bag on the bed closest to the door. The notebook was in his lap a moment later and he flipped it open, tapping the pen against the fresh page of paper.

 _Make sure Sam's gonna be okay without me._

Dean had no idea how he'd manage to do that but he'd figure it out. Besides financial things, and hunting things, Dean knew Sam had this whole emotional thing he needed to deal with. He got that. Got it enough that faced with the death of his brother he sold his soul. And now Sam was going to be faced with Dean's death and there were no more deals left to be made. Slowly shaking his head, Dean forced his mind onto other things.

 _Get married._

 _Kiss someone in the rain._

 _Make love to someone. I.E. - don't just fuck them._

This time Dean couldn't help his sigh. All these things were getting increasingly more sappy and sentimental. If Dean had seen Sam write something like that, he would have made fun of him for weeks after.

 _Tell Sam I love him._

Hearing the shower turn off, Dean shook his head and flipped the notebook closed. His eyes flickered up to Sam as he stepped out of the bathroom and he dropped his gaze a moment later because, seriously, Sam dripping wet in a towel was probably one of the hottest things imaginable.

He dropped his notebook on top of his duffel and slid out of his jeans and shirt, not lifting his eyes again until he'd safely secured a door between Sam and himself.

Letting out a long breath of air Sam towel-dried his hair a bit then moved over to his duffel to find some clean boxers. As he was rooting through his duffel he glanced over at Dean's and noticed the notebook that his brother had been writing in. Sam's eyes dropped back to his bag and he pulled out some clean shorts, a t-shirt and some jeans. He moved quickly around the room, getting dressed, tossing his dirty clothes into a plastic bag. Every now and then he would glance over at the book. It wasn't really something that he should look at. It was his brother's personal notebook and he knew that Dean would kick his ass if he busted him reading it. But... these were desperate times... and there was that whole _desperate measures_ things.

Taking a deep breath Sam kneeled by Dean's duffel and picked up the notebook. He listened carefully and could still hear the sound of the shower running the bathroom, so he opened the first page of the notebook.

 _Before I die I'd like to jump out of a plane._

 _Go see the Grand Canyon for real. Not just talk about it like we did last year._ 10/25/07

 _See the world's largest ball of Twine in Cawker, Kansas._

That was all Sam could read before his vision started to waver as tears welled in his eyes. He closed the notebook gently and placed it back on his brother's duffel. Resting his hand on it for a moment Sam pushed up from the floor and went to sit on the edge of his bed. He wiped angrily at his face with the bottom of his t-shirt. Sam hadn't managed to move from there when he heard the shower turn off.

Water sprayed from Dean's hair as he ruffled a hand through it, securing the towel around his waist as he pulled open the bathroom door. He glanced up at Sam as he moved to his duffel bag, pulling out a fresh pair of boxers and tugging them on under his towel. As he stepped into a pair of jeans, he once more glanced over at his brother. "Something happen?" He asked, thinking his brother looked more upset than he had before he went into the shower which was sort of weird. Then again, both their emotions were so haywire now-a-days, any little thing seemed to set it off.

Sam glanced up at his brother then his eyes moved away quickly. "N..No, I'm just... I'm really tired that's all." He looked down at his hands where they were clenched on his jeans. "You wanna go get some pie or something for dinner? We passed one of those little run-down diners you love so much when we were getting here." As much as he had tried he couldn't stop a tear that slipped from the corner of his eye. "I could... eat pie for dinner." Sam's voice was soft, barely above a whisper.

Tugging on his shirt, Dean frowned slightly at his brother. "You couldn't eat pie for dinner, you'd lose sleep over it," he stepped closer to Sam, heart kicking up at the slightest glint of water on his cheek. It made him feel more guilty then usual that he caused his brother this kind of pain and - as he occasionally did - Dean wondered how utterly selfish he had been. "Sam..." he breathed, knowing there wasn't much he could offer to make things better.

Blinking, Sam looked up at his brother. "I can eat pie, it's fruit." There had never been a time in Sam's life when his big brother couldn't fix everything before. Reading Dean's notebook was the thing that had sort of driven home the fact that Dean saw _no_ way out of his deal. And... if Dean saw no way out - Sam had learned long ago that there probably wasn't one. Pushing up to his full height, Sam lifted his hand and pressed it flat against Dean's shirt, right over his brother's heart. "I'm sorry." He closed his eyes for a few moments. "I really want pie though, cherry, with extra whipped cream and a coke." His fingers curled into the soft material of Dean's shirt for a moment and then he let go moving over to pick up his jacket and slip it on.

Dean's chest burned in the perfect imprint of his brother's hand and he blinked down at his t-shirt. "O-okay..." he nodded, turning to retrieve some socks and his boots. He wondered what Sam was apologizing for, whether it was because of how upset he obviously was or... something else Dean couldn't even imagine. When he was ready, Dean pushed up from the edge of the bed, looking at Sam curiously. "So extra whipped cream huh? What about your girlish figure?" He smirked slightly, snagging the car keys from the table.

Brushing his hair back from his face, Sam's lips turned up a little, "I'm hot and you know it. I could gain a couple of pounds, it wouldn't kill me." He turned away from his brother, chest too tight to breathe properly and grabbed the handle of the door, "besides, you only live once..." He pulled the door open and walked over to the car.

Dean stared at the door for a moment, hesitating. Making up his mind in a flash, Dean turned back to his duffel bag and knelt by the notebook drawing a line through _Teach Sam to enjoy life more._ It wasn't complete entirely he knew, but it was possibly the best it was going to get. The last few days had proven that. Even if there were only three lines drawn through the list, Dean felt just a little bit better, as if he was really doing something.

Pushing up quickly he headed for the car, closing the motel door and locking it behind him. Sam was already in the car so he slipped in beside him and slipped the key into the ignition.

Dean looked around the motel room as he stepped in, calling out his brother's name. When he got no answer he crossed to the table quickly, pulling up his notebook and the package of pictures he'd just gotten back from the one hour photo place. Sam was currently researching sewer layout plans at the Starbucks down the street, since the motel failed to provide any wireless internet service.

Pulling out the pictures and a roll of tape from his jacket pocket, Dean sorted through for some of the best shots. One of the Canyon, gleaming in the sunlight, the impromptu one Sam had taken of the both of them. Dean had even paid extra to get doubles, so both he and Sam could have a set. He broke the two into separate piles, stuffing one set in the envelope, from the other he picked his favorite four and tucked the rest at the back of his notebook.

Having no idea when his brother would return, Dean flipped to a blank page and made quick work of taping down the pictures. Next he wrote a few paragraphs about the day, telling Sam just how happy he'd been. It was far too emotional for his taste but Sam wasn't going to see it until after he was gone so it didn't matter.

He flipped the notebook closed just as the door open, eyes flickering up, "Hey. Did you find where the thing might be living?" Dean pushed up from the table, carrying his notebook to his duffel bag.

Sam fussed with his jacket, shifting his weight. "Not exactly," he lied, "we need to head to Kansas. Near as I can figure somewhere in the Northern part of the state. We should... we should go there. And then maybe I can find out more." He wasn't actually lying. There was no proof that the vamp they'd caught wind of _wasn't_ living there so Sam figured it couldn't hurt to get Dean closer to one of the things he wanted to do. In his mind, the world's largest ball of twine seemed pretty minor in the big scheme of things - but his brother had always been... _special_. "So yeah, we'll go there." Scratching the side of his nose he looked over at Dean.

Frowning slightly, Dean nodded, "Alright, Kansas it is." He trusted his brother to lead them in the right direction, even if it seemed like Sam was being a little shifty about things. "Oh I got those pictures developed by the way," Dean gestured to the table where the envelope sat as he heaved his duffel onto the bed and started gathering up his things. "I'll be ready in ten okay?"

"'Kay," Sam walked over to the table and sank down into a chair. Grabbing the envelope he opened it and flipped through the pictures stopping only when his eyes fell on the one he had taken of Dean and him side-by-side. They were both smiling slightly, but there was a peaceful look on Dean's face as he looked over at Sam's face. Thumb gently rubbing across the photo Sam smiled then slipped the photo out of the pile leaving the rest of the photos on the table in front of him. He shifted to the side and pulled his wallet out of his pocket, opened it and slipped the photo in.

Dean tugged on the zipper of the duffel bag after he'd made sure the notebook was placed in just the right way so the pictures wouldn't slip out. "So, what city we heading to? Have we been there before?" What Dean wanted to know is if they'd be traveling through their home town at all. Generally he avoided the place and he wasn't planning on changing that fact now. There were just some places Dean didn't want to go.

Stuffing his wallet back in his pocket Sam stared down at the photos as he shoved them back in the envelope. "Cawker," he muttered without looking over at his brother. He knew if Dean saw his face he would know that he was up to something. Sam had learned that when he was young, if he wanted to keep something from Dean - he couldn't make eye contact. He had learned the hard way. When he was ten he had skipped a day of school to go along with some friends to the carnival and was busted by Dean in the first thirty seconds after he walked through the front door at home.

There were such things as coincidences, whether people knew it or not. Dean had to take a minute to decide if this was one of those things or if something was going on. It seemed pretty unlikely that Sam had mastered the ability to read minds, besides the occasional... thing. Dean would have known if he'd seen the notebook, so it had to be just fate throwing him a fuckin' bone or something. "Okay," he nodded slowly, and tugged up the bag. "Gonna throw my stuff in the car." He spared Sam a final curious look before heading for the door.

Sam picked up his things and headed out to the car behind his brother. Tossing his bag in the trunk he slammed it shut and yanked open the passenger door, sliding down onto the seat. "Let's get this show on the road."

Swallowing around the odd sort of twisting in his gut, Dean started up the car and took them out of the parking lot. Sometimes things with Sam... they were different on a level Dean couldn't really comprehend. Whether it had anything to do with that secret sort of way he felt for him, or something else, he could never put his finger on it. It was moments like these - the first few hundred miles, through Wyoming and into Nebraska, Dean could think of nothing but his brother. Not all that uncommon in the grand scheme of things but this time, his thoughts seemed to weigh heavier, seemed to _mean_ something he hadn't realized before. But that was what long drives were for, thinking, and Dean was king of the long drives.

The journey was long. Sam whined a fair amount, which, in the strangest way seem to make his brother relax. It could be that Sam had been whining about things since was old enough to speak and it felt _normal_ to Dean. As Sam got older, he grew taller and soon, he couldn't really get comfortable in the car. So - he whined about it, fidgeted, and tried to annoy Dean. Annoying Dean could make the miles fly by. Sam hung his head out the open window for a while, until his eyes were watering and Dean started to complain about how cold it was getting in the car. When he wound up the window it actually wasn't because Dean asked it was because some sort of insect flew into his mouth and that was just nasty. Sam spent a lot of this particular drive staring at his brother. It accomplished two things, it annoyed Dean and it gave Sam some time to study his brother's face. He was fond of his brother's face, Dean had kind eyes, green - they sparkled this crazy deep colour in the light. Sam was willing to bet Dean would be surprised to know his little brother even noticed that. Sam was focused on his brother's freckles when he started to doze off, he thought he was somewhere in Nebraska -but the landscape was all starting to look the same to him. Sinking down on his seat he let his head fall back and turned so he could stare at Dean's face. As his eyes fluttered closed, he wasn't completely unaware that he slid sideways slowly, rocked by the motion of the car, until he was settled against his brother's side.

It was a lot nicer than it should have been, having Sam passed out against him for the remainder of the drive. He should have shoved him off, rolled his eyes in annoyance or whatever, but he didn't. Instead he shifted his arm and looped it loosely over his brother's shoulders, curling his fingers against the flesh. Naturally this only served to intensify his level of extreme thought. Without his brother to occasionally distract him, Dean sank lower into thought. If he knew how to shut off his mind he would, but he never had known how. So he simply breathed in the smell of his brother - the lingering scent of night air and the underlying current of familiarity - and considered all the ways he loved him. By the time they reached the motel he was exhausted, mentally and emotionally drained, and he swore next time to make the trip in the middle of the day and force Sam to stay up with him the entire time to keep the thoughts at bay.

"Did you know that this city has the largest ball of twine?" Dean asked the following morning, feeling much more rested and less emotionally torn. He was looking at Sam across the table in the diner they were in, coffee cup raised to his lips and hovering there.

Sam set about cutting his omelet into smaller pieces, watching his knife and fork work. "Nope, should I have?" He shoved a forkful of egg into his mouth and turned to stare out the window, watching the cars race past on the highway. "You think it's got something to do with the case?" He was itching to brush his hair back off his face but he didn't want Dean to be able to see his eyes.

Snorting around his coffee cup, Dean nearly choked on the liquid and he had to set down the cup as he tried to control himself. "What? No dude. It's a fuckin' ball of _twine_. What would that have to do with a vampire?" He laughed and shook his head, popping a piece of bacon into his mouth. "I saw a thing about it though... um... it's over seven and a half million feet of twine. That's just... why would someone spend their life building something like that? Isn't that insane?" He looked around the small diner. "I guess it brings a lot of people to visit though. Hey maybe that's why the vampire would come here. Abundance of people constantly passing through?" Dean hadn't really thought the two could be connected but wouldn't that have been weird?

"So, you think the guy who made it is insane," Sam's lips twitched into a smile and he turned back to his plate, picking up another forkful of eggs, "but you, and our vampire - apparently - wanna go and see seven million feet of twine?" He shoved the eggs into his mouth and chewed. There was no way that he could keep the grin off his face, and when the laughter bubbled up Sam nearly choked on his breakfast. Once he finally managed to swallow, he looked up at Dean, "I would _love_ to go and see seven million feet of twine with ya Bro."

Dean joined in the laughter, sitting back and bringing another piece of bacon to his mouth. "He's insane because of his patience level. I could _never_ be that patient. I'd burn the thing after... I don't know. A couple of months?" He grinned and stretched his legs out, not bothering to shift even when his ankle rested against Sam's. "And it's seven and a _half_ million. That's... a lot. And way worth swinging by. You know, since we're here." He ducked his head and smiled, bringing his coffee to his mouth once more.

"Okay," Sam said. That hadn't been so hard. The whole _jumping out of a plane_ might be a bit harder, actually, it would probably be a _lot_ harder. Surprisingly, it didn't feel like a bad idea when Sam decided that he needed to see more of his brother's notebook. There might be other notes in Dean's book, things that were easier for Sam to direct them toward. Everyone had a mission in life and if Sam couldn't find a way to get Dean out of his deal, not that he had given up looking, but they had some time - it couldn't hurt to cross some things off the list. "What we doing first? Looking for the vampire?" That would be interesting. The vampire, as far as Sam could tell, was nowhere near Kansas.

"It seems pretty unlikely that he'll be roaming around a small town in Kansas this early in the morning. We'll go see the twine thing first, and then we can pop into the local library and check out things. See if there's a logical place for him to have hidden." Something in Dean was thrumming with excitement and alright, it was just a ball of twine but this would be the fourth thing he could cross off the list and that seemed... big. Dean studied Sam's face for a minute, small smile on his lips. "I'm ready when you are."

In truth, the giant ball of twine wasn't really that worth it. _But_ it was the thought that counted. And it was made better by the fact that the maker of the ball was right there willing to talk to people. Dean had a full length conversation with him about the merits of different types of twine and he came away feeling just a little more satisfied with his life. He'd never had such a pointless conversation mean so much. Sam kept giving him this weird look which probably had a lot to do with the fact that he couldn't wipe the goofy grin off his face.

The afternoon wasn't nearly as successful. They didn't find anything suggesting the vampire was anywhere nearby. But Sam did find a string of disappearances in a town only a few hours away so they headed back to the motel, gathered up their stuff and hit the road. They even managed to make it there before dinner. Dean pulled up to a motel called the Ellsworth Inn and practically flew out of the car. He'd been itching to cross the entry off his notebook and he didn't even make an excuse as he snatched up the book and headed to the bathroom.

A slow smile pulled up his lips as he crossed off the line and added a few more.

 _Learn to Ski._

 _Make a snowman/snow angels with Sam._

 _Cook someone breakfast, serve it to them in bed._

 _Scuba Dive._

Just in case he got around to doing them, ‘cause it seemed like things were working well for him so far. When he stepped out of the bathroom Sam was giving him a weird look but Dean just shrugged and moved to tuck his notebook back in his duffel. "I'm gonna go pick us up some pizzas and a couple movies okay? You can start checking out the missing people, see if they're linked to our vampire," with a still lingering smile he headed for the door, tugging his keys from his pocket.

Waiting until he heard the low rumbling purr of the Impala fade into the distance, Sam moved across the room and pulled the notebook out of his brother's duffel. Sitting cross-legged on the floor he opened the notebook.

 _Eat a 72 oz. steak at The Oasis - Milton-Freewater, OR. - win a t-shirt and picture on the wall._

 _Ride all 17 roller coasters and 75 rides at Cedar Point in Sandusky, Ohio_

 _Teach Sam to enjoy life more._

 _Stay at the fancy hotel in Vegas, whichever one that is._

 _Go to the top of the Empire State Building._

 _Go to New York City at all._

 _Skinny dip._

Pressing his lips together Sam closed the book and held it between his hands for a few minutes. _Teach Sam to enjoy life more_. And it was crossed out, maybe because they'd drifted a little from their regular path? The pie for dinner? Racing off toward a ball of twine without Sam arguing about it? These were all places that they could get to Nevada they could swing by on the way to Oregon. It felt like Sam should be trying to do them all, but he was wondering if some of the smaller items might mean more in the end. Leaning forward he slipped the notebook back into his brother's duffel and stood grabbing his laptop and settling himself at the table.

Sam had been researching for about an hour when Dean finally returned. As soon as his brother walked in the room Sam looked up and shut the top of his laptop. "Dean... finally. Tomorrow we gotta go to Oregon, I got it all wrong. Two of the people who went missing from here were last seen hitchhiking on Highway 97 near California." He stood up and headed toward the bathroom, "sorry - I got a little mixed up with my information, but I'm sure now." He slipped into the bathroom and locked the door behind him.

Frowning a little at the door, Dean set the pizza boxes on the table and crossed to Sam's open laptop. A quick search told him it would take about a day to get there, nearly fifteen hundred miles. It was almost on the other side of the country. Seemed like a pretty big mistake for Sam to make. Dean's eyebrows pulled together in confusion, trying to understand if there was something he was missing. It seemed like Sam was being a little harder to read than usual, avoiding eye contact, making mistakes.

Dean settled in at the table in the opposite seat from the laptop and flipped open the box of pizza. When Sam returned they ate quietly, Sam answering any questions Dean had about the missing people pretty easily. Dean did note that he kept his eyes fixed elsewhere, no matter the effort Dean put into trying to connect their gazes.

After they'd eaten Sam showered and Dean reclined in bed, putting on the Sixth Sense. He showered after Sam had come out and by the time he came back into the main bedroom Sam was curled up under the blankets and fast asleep. Dean dropped onto the bed across from him, watching his lips move in small open and closed movements. He wondered what his brother was dreaming about, whether he'd wake in the middle of the night with a nightmare like he occasionally did. Whenever it happened Dean would lay awake and itch to climb out of bed and pull him close. But at some point they'd crossed that line where that sort of thing was no longer appropriate. Maybe it was Sam going to college, moving on with his life, maybe it happened even before then. Dean didn't really know.

As he climbed under his own blankets, Dean rolled so he could still stare at Sam's features. The only light in the room was coming from the lamp post outside the window. It illuminated Sam's body in just the right way to make him look like he was glowing. This was what Dean feel asleep to and - excluding all the other ideas that involved touches and being close - it was a pretty good way to dose off.

Two days later - with a stopover for one night in Colorado - they pulled up to yet another non descript motel in Walla Walla, Oregon. Apparently Sam had tracked the supposed missing people to this city. It seemed pretty impossible to track them further because it was a fairly large city and people had a tendency to disappear in crowds. But well... they were here and Dean couldn't resist doing just a little research. It would take twenty minutes to get to the Oasis restaurant in Milton-Freewater. This was the first time Dean actually stopped to think something might not be right. After all... one hunt that led him within miles of two of the things on his list... it seemed almost too good to be true.

After only a few hours in Walla Walla Sam turned up with actual case information. It didn't have anything to do with a vampire but apparently there was a haunting on a local playground that had once been a graveyard - yeah, the idea made Dean cringe too - and the spirit of a little girl that had been murdered was convincing children to hurt their playmates. No one had died yet but children hurting children was bad enough to catch Dean's attention.

Dean never liked hunts involving kid ghosts. And this one sucked even more because they had to wait until night time to dig up practically the entire park to find the bones. And they found more than one body since it was yet another cheap cemetery move. In the end the whole thing left Dean feeling more annoyed than anything else. He spent longer than necessary in the shower after wards and decided if Sam was going out of his way to bring him to these locations, well, right now he didn't care.

There were parts of that book he couldn't allow the man to read though, so once he gained a little more proof he'd address the topic with him. No need to falsely accuse him and start a fight. And well, since they were there, Dean wasn't going to miss up on the opportunity to cross another thing from his list.

"Tomorrow we're going out to eat," he informed Sam when he came back into the motel room, stretching his sore muscles and rubbing his aching hands together. Too many hours with a shovel.

"Dean, we pretty much go out to eat every day - why does it suddenly warrant an announcement?" Sam winced as he tried to pull his jacket off; his hands were torn up a bit from the shovel handle. Wriggling so his jacket fell off his shoulders, Sam looked over at Dean, can you grab me a damp cloth and a few band aids?" Toeing off his boots Sam hopped around for a couple of moments then settled on the end of the bed hand palms up, arms resting across his thighs.

Dean instantly gathered the supplies, on alert with the knowledge that Sam was bleeding enough to warrant band aids. He soaked a cloth in the bathroom sink before coming back and dropping to his knees in front of his brother. "Let me see," he said softly and took Sam's hand in his, tightening his finger and thumb around the wrist when Sam shifted back. " _Let me_ ," he insisted and ran the cloth over the skin. To distract himself from the rush of sensations the touch sparked up in him, Dean answered the man's previous question, "We're going to somewhere a little nicer. Or um... somewhere that's not a diner. You don't have to dress up or anything. I saw it on Man vs. Food on the travel channel."

"Ouch!" Sam frowned down at his brother, "when do _you_ watch the Travel channel?" Stretching his legs out on either side of Dean, Sam tilted his head slightly and stared down at his brother. "So - where we going?" He knew full well where they were headed, well, he was pretty sure. He'd managed to get them close enough that Dean might be able to strike a few more things off his list.

Rolling his eyes slightly, Dean peeled the wrapper off a band aid, "shut up dude, it doesn't hurt. And for the record, I watch the Travel channel all the time, just mostly after you go to sleep." He peered down at his brother's flesh, thumb sliding over the vein at the wrist slowly. "This dude, on that Man vs. Food show, he goes around and competes in eating competitions. There's this restaurant not too far from here that has one. It's called the Oasis. If you can finish a 72 Oz. steak in two hours, plus all the side stuff, you get a t-shirt and your picture on the wall. I'm thinking I can do it," he grinned up at Sam, reaching for his other hand. "This one bad too?"

"So does the guy have a death wish?" Sam held out his other hand. He wasn't sure he actually needed the other hand bandaged but... well, it was _stupidly_ nice to be taken care of a little bit and there wouldn't be chances like this forever. He chewed on his bottom lip while Dean cleaned out the blisters on his hand. "Wait, you're gonna eat 72 Oz. of steak?"

Grinning, Dean nodded and rubbed the cloth in slow circles along the man's skin. "I am. Or I'm gonna try. Also a baked potato and broccoli. It's really gonna be amazing. You'll come and cheer me on right?" He pulled up another band aid and spread it across the one bleeding blister on the man's palm.

Nodding slowly, Sam smiled down at his brother, "'course I will, as long as I don't have to eat all that. My body would start a full-on revolution." Sam opened and closed his fingers a few times, "thanks, Nurse Ratchet." He nudged Dean's chin with the back of his hand. "When we heading out?"

"Later, I need a nap, build up my energy," Dean grinned and caught Sam's hand once more. Before he even realized what he was doing the soft flesh of Sam's hand was there against his lips, pressed right beside the band aid. There was the brief tang of salty skin and then Dean was lifting his head, blinking at Sam as he released his hand. "Uh... nap..." he slid back, heart slamming so hard against his chest it almost hurt.

"You haven't done that since I was a kid." Sam looked down at the spot on his hand where the band aid was. Nothing was surprising him these days, nothing. "Do you remember when I broke my arm at school? You came to get me 'cause Dad was away..." Sam smiled wistfully.

Chuckling softly at the memory, Dean pushed up off the worn carpet and nodded, toeing off his boots beside his duffel. "I remember. You were so upset I let you stay up half the night watching the Texas Chainsaw Massacre marathon. Then you slept in my bed because you said you knew I'd kill anyone who came after you, even if they had a chainsaw." He slipped out of his jeans, fingers curling around the hem of his shirt. "I think I spoiled you too much during that time when you had your cast on... maybe that's why you're such a softy now." He laughed and crawled onto the bed, sliding under the blanket. "Get the light yeah?"

"Softy?" Sam's hands were feeling better, good enough to let his pillow fly across the room straight into Dean's face. "Softy my ass." He stood and pulled off his shirt and struggled with the button on his jeans. After almost falling over he managed to step out of them and padded back to the bed slipping under the covers. "Gimme my pillow back," he leaned over and held out his hand.

Dean took the pillow and stuffed it under his body, "No way. Mine now." He grabbed the other pillows on his bed and stuffed them under his body as well, grinning into the fluffy cotton.

Sam's eyes narrowed, "don't make me cover over there and kick your ass, gimme my pillow."

"What pillow?" Dean mumbled into the material, still grinning.

"I'm givin' you ten seconds on account of you're my big brother and I respect you. Then I'm comin' over there and your ass is grass." Sam flipped his covers back and started counting out, "Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, you giving me the pillow?"

"Am I supposed to be scared?" Dean rolled slightly, lifting his head to peer at his brother. "Cause really? I'm just _shaking_ with fear," he snorted and rolled back onto his stomach on top of his pillows _and_ Sam's pillow. Dean tightened his shoulders, bracing himself for the inevitable.

"Fine, _one_ ," Sam launched himself from his bed leaping across the gap and landing flat across his brother's back, he groaned and started laughing when he managed to get his breath back. Whipping an arm around he slid it under Dean's chest and yanked his brother up trying to pry the pillow out from under him.

Dean held on for dear life, laughing so hard it hurt when combined with the heavy weight lying on top of him. "All those salads," he grunted and rocked back and forth under Sam, trying to rock him off. "And you're still a fat ass," he snorted roughly and pushed his hands down into the mattress, shoving up roughly.

Wrapping both arms around his brother's neck, Sam managed to get him in a headlock and squeezed only tight enough to make sure Dean couldn't get out. "Give up, _Give_ up the pillow, or I'm going to do something that you'll regret."

Gasping slightly, Dean arched his body back into Sam. And that, turned out to be a stupid decision. Dean could feel the curve of Sam's hip as he shifted, could feel the heat coursing through him more intensely than anything else. Just like that he was instantly hard. "No." He grunted because giving in was not an option as the older brother, even if he was rapidly finding himself in an awkward place.

Sam leaned down over Dean, "okay, you asked for it," he growled against his brother's ear. Grunting, Sam shifted his body until he was straddling his brother's back, pulled up on his grip and managed to flip Dean over. Of course, it didn't give Sam much of an advantage but it got Dean _off_ his pillow. Keeping an arm pressed across Dean's chest, Sam pressed his brother into the mattress and rocked forward quickly to snag his pillow out from under Dean's head. Chucking it across to his own bed, Sam threw his arms up in the air and sat back on Dean's thighs, "Victory is mine!" He patted Dean's chest with both hands, "told ya I'd kick yer ass."

Dean was almost in shock, or at least as close to shock as he ever allowed himself to get. "Off. Off Sam. Get _off_ ," he shoved at his brother's chest until the man fell back and he could slither away from him. Dean was so hard his boxers were straining. The heat that burned through him radiated up his legs, chest, that expanse of skin Sam had rocked against. It should have been innocent - it _was_ innocent - but both he and Sam were in their boxers and they were so _close_ to something more... Dean had almost come just from that touch alone. His heart was racing, color spreading across his skin, eyes dropping from Sam's face to his bare chest, lower before jerking to the side wall. _Not. Good._

"Dean?" Sam was breathing hard, lying where he'd fallen across the end of Dean's bed. "Did I hurt you? I'm sorry... I was just being an idiot..." Sam sat up, reaching a hand out to let it rest on Dean's hip. _Holy shit_ he'd just been having fun and now he felt like an ass.

Clearing his throat, Dean attempted to laugh, "No dude, you didn't _hurt_ me. Come on, I'm not a wimp." He shifted, trying to work down the heat in his crotch. Sam hand was still too close and he shifted away again. Dean was stuck now. If he got up, Sam would definitely notice the tent in his crotch. And if he tried to be casual and pull a pillow over him, Sam would notice. _Shit._ "Uh... you know, just... sore. From the digging. And stuff. So... yeah." He dragged his tongue across his lips and reached out for the blanket, tugging it up.

Blinking, Sam sat frozen on the end of the bed. It was like his brother didn't want to be anywhere near him. "Dean," Sam's hand was still stretched out toward Dean, "did I... have I done something wrong?"

"God. No Sam. Just..." Dean sighed heavily and rubbed at the bridge of his nose. "Sleep. I just need that. Okay. So..." clearing his throat, Dean shifted on the mattress slightly. Every part of him thrummed with desire to launch himself across the bed and pin Sam down onto the mattress. He couldn't do that though. _Couldn't_. And here he was still outrageously hard. "Fuck." He jumped up off of the bed and crossed to the bathroom as quickly as he could, shutting the door with a snap and falling heavily against the wood with a groan.

When Sam's eyes followed his brother across the room, things went from the average amount of weird to over-the-top weird. But, there was probably a simple explanation for why Dean had a hard on that had _nothing_ to do with Sam being anywhere near him. Sam shook his head, there was no _way_ that's what he'd seen, _no_ way. Shoulders sagging a little, Sam moved back over to his bed and climbed back in, turning his light out and curling up on his side facing the wall.

Dean didn't leave the bathroom for a half hour, even after he'd relieved himself of the problem. When he did the room was dark and Sam's back was to him. Sighing softly, Dean climbed under his blanket. Like he did most nights, Dean whispered a soft goodnight and - like most nights - he received no answer. With a soft sigh he let his eyes drift closed and tried not to think about the feel of Sam straddling him.

 _"Dean," Sam was whispering frantically, "Dean..." They were coming. He could hear the growling and hissing, the sound of claws scrabbling on the hardwood floor inside the house. "Dean," Sam was half-crawling, half-crouching as he tried to find his brother in the dark room, "Dean, they're here." They were coming to get his brother, tear him to pieces and drag his corpse to hell. Sam couldn't save him, Sam hadn't saved him. Sam peered around a corner, blinking his eyes them feeling them push open wider, knowing it wouldn't do anything to improve the way he could see in the dark. His hand slammed into something, Dean, Dean's boot. He grabbed his brother's leg and moved up shaking Dean. But - Dean wouldn't answer him, his body was damp, wet, slick, thick fluid on the floor made it hard for Sam to move. He could smell the coppery scent of blood in the air. "Dean?" They'd already been here, Sam was too late, he was always too late, the body started to move, being slowly dragged across the floor. Sam screamed out his brother's name..._

"Sammy?" Dean sat up quickly, rapidly fluttering his eyes to try and figure out what was happening. Dean turned, eyes landing on the writhing body. Jumping up, Dean crossed to him without hesitation. Sliding onto the mattress, Dean easily curled his arms around Sam's body, pulling him in to press his chest against Sam's back. "Shh, it's alright Sammy. I got you. I'm right here," he breathed into his brother's ear, arm wrapped around Sam's abs and holding him tightly.

It could have been the mattress moving under Dean's weight that woke Sam, but it was probably his brother's arm sliding over his body and his chest pressing against the clammy skin of Sam's back. Whatever it was, Sam was glad to be dragged out of the nightmare and he didn't want Dean to go so he stayed still, quiet, let his breathing even out. Dean was warm and safe, just like when they were kids and sleep stole over Sam once more; this time it was peaceful.


	3. Chapter 3

"Oh. My. _God._ " Dean dropped across the bed and groaned loudly. " _Kill_ me Sammy. Just do it. Put me out of my misery." Dean felt like he was going to explode. He was more incredibly full then he thought possible and even the shirt clutched in his hands didn't quite seem worth this uncomfortable pain. "Why did you let me _do_ that?" Dean groaned and curled in on himself only to flinch and stretch back out. Nope, there was just no way to get comfortable. Dean rolled over onto his back and stared at the ceiling. "At least I got my picture on the wall, and a shirt." Dean held up the material in his hand to prove his point.

Sam wrung out a cold cloth in the sink in the bathroom and padded back into the room. "Ya know, Dean, I believe I did say that it probably wasn't the smartest idea ever - but, since when do you listen to me?" Sitting on the edge of his brother's bed, Sam folded the cloth and put it on his brother's forehead. "I don't think you can cause yourself any permanent damage by eating too much protein but ya never know. Should I get you a garbage can - you know - just in case?"

"Nah, it's gonna come out the other in a really major way," Dean lifted his head a little to catch Sam's slightly disgusted grimace and chuckled. "But it was worth it. You know not everyone can say they've done that. Actually only a select few. It makes me a unique." His grin grew a little but fell when he tried to adjust to a more comfortable position and it only made the food in his belly shift unpleasantly. "Never again though. Never. Again."

Laughing softly Sam shifted closer, "here," he pushed Dean's hands away from his belly and started rubbing gently in small circles, "we learned in cognitive psychology in school that our nerve endings can't perceive pain and pleasure at the same time." He only applied the slightest pressure to Deans stomach, rubbing his hand back and forth slowly, "scientists have proven that's why our instinct is to rub a bruise when we bump into something, or," he nodded at Dean's stomach, "why we rub our stomachs when they ache." He smiled down at his brother.

Dean closed his eyes and focused in on the touch. "Yeah, whatever Einstein." He smiled at his lame attempt at an insult, or compliment, whatever. Between Sam's touch and the knowledge that he'd completed yet another thing on his list, he was already feeling a little better. Or he was at least getting to the point he could ignore the discomfort and zero in on the satisfaction. "I think I could sleep for a week."

"Well, I can leave you alone - get some rest." Sam patted Dean's shoulder and moved to get up.

"Nah, stick around, keep me company in my miserable state," Dean's eyes fluttered open and he smiled at Sam. "I'll even let you talk about whatever you'd like, even if it makes you sound all brainy." He sighed softly and dropped an arm to pat the bed beside him. When Sam had sat down again he closed his eyes and asked softly, "Do you miss it? School I mean."

"Sometimes, I miss my friends and I miss being able to go to bed every night and only have to worry about whether or not I studied." Sam fiddled with the bracelet on his arm, "but if I hadn't come back I would never have gotten to know you. We're _brothers_ now, ya know? We weren't for a while there. So it was worth it." Sam turned so he could see his brother's face; his face was a little pale so his freckles were standing out. You had to be really close to Dean to see his freckles, when he was tanned they were almost impossible to spot. "Are you... sorry you came to get me?"

Dean shook his head slowly. "No. I've never once regretted having you with me. I feel... bad. That things ended the way they did for you back then. But... I wouldn't trade having you here for anything." Except his soul apparently. And though Dean thought it - and he was fairly certain Sam did as well - he didn't add that bit. There were just some things that they would never say out loud and Dean added that one to the list along with his feelings for his brother that were anything but brotherly. Even if that was on his list... he could still tell Sam he loved him because he did love him as a brother, and the more was just a growing attachment to that sentiment. "I never could have made it through the past few years without you Sam, I don't know if I've ever told you that but I think you should know."

Sam smiled and tousled Dean's hair. "I know me either." But there were so many thoughts running through his mind. This was really all Sam's fault. If he'd been smarter, Dean would never have had to make a deal for his life in the first place. Sam let his face fall forward into his hands. "I wish you'd never... I mean, you know, I don't know how to fix this. I keep thinking I will find it but I'm sorry, Dean, I wish I could trade places with you.

Shaking his head again, Dean reached out to lay his hand on Sam's arm. "I don't. I mean... it sucks, I'm... I won't lie to you. I hate the idea of where I'm headed but I would never want it to be you. Just knowing that you're gonna be alive... that's what's important." He squeezed the flesh beneath his hand and turned his head to stare at Sam. They were closer than he thought. Sam was right _there_. And Dean couldn't resist shifting forward a little, bringing them that much closer. Close enough he could feel the breath falling from Sam's lips on his face. Close enough he could almost _taste_ Sam. Dean stopped his movements, waiting for Sam to shift back and take control of the situation because talking about all of this... Dean wasn't certain he could.

Sam leaned forward and slid his arms around his brother's neck, pulling him into a hug. "I'm... I gotta find an answer Dean, I can't," Sam buried his face in Dean's neck, "I can't do this without you, I don't know how. You're the one who makes all the decisions, you have my back... and..." his voice faded away to nothing.

There was really nothing he could say to comfort his brother so he simply slipped his arm around him, holding him as tight as he could. "You're gonna make it. You're just as strong, you'll see." He whispered the words and for the first time since everything happened with the deal, Dean _knew_ that there was no way out of this. His heart clenched unpleasantly and he let his hand come up and slip through Sam's hair. "Hey Thanksgiving is next week. Let's do something special for it. Let's..." Dean bit his lip, reluctant to let go but he did because he had too. "Let's go to Vegas. We'll spend every day this next week hitting up bars and getting as much money as we can and then we'll stay in one of those really ritzy hotels and gamble and have fun okay? Does that... is that something you might want to do?" At this point Dean might have suggested anything to get them off their current conversation topic. The fact that it fit into his list was just a thing of luck.

Sam shifted back again, letting his hand settle on the side of Dean's neck, "sure, if that's what you want to do. S'fine by me. How you feeling now?" He took a deep breath and ran a hand down his face, 'you need anything? I'm kinda tired." Sam wasn't tired, he was exhausted. It was the bone-deep kind of tired that came from feeling too much for too long. It was probably that moment when he decided that he was going to full-fill as many of the things on Dean's list as he could, no matter what they were, no matter how big or how small.

"I feel... a little less like I ate the entire McDonalds menu twice over," Dean chuckled and shifted back on the bed. "I could go for a nap though." He tugged at his waist line, managing to maneuver enough to slip out of his jeans and kick him off the edge of the bed. He wished that Sam wouldn't go over to his own bed, wished they could lay curled together, but he shook his head to clear the thought. "We'll plan Vegas tomorrow. Thanks for... you know... putting up with me." He grinned over at Sam and shimmed to get under the blanket.

Sam moved quietly around the room, putting things away then slipped out of his jeans and shirt. He paced around for a while fussing with things and then sat down on the far side of Dean's bed. "I'm gonna sleep here," he spoke quickly so that Dean wouldn't be able to cut him off, "just for a while, I won't even get under the covers or anything so don't bitch at me, Okay?"

"Get under the covers Sam," Dean said softly, rolling his face in the pillow to hide his pleased smile. He figured it had to do with their previous conversation and Sam's need to feel comfort after such a hard topic. Whatever the reason, Dean would take it willingly. He tugged up the blanket, holding it there, "C'mon, I promise. No bitching."

For about thirty seconds Sam made a pretense of ignoring Dean, then he huffed out a breath and flipped the covers back on the bed so he could slide under them. He waited another minute or so and then rolled over and scooted a bit closer to Dean. "Thanks, for... not bitching at me." The last time Sam had an uninterrupted sleep was when he and Dean had gotten stuck out over night on a hunt and had to share an extremely small tent they had stuffed in the trunk for emergencies. Dean was his brother's touch stone. Sam's arm snaked over Dean's waist, just the way Dean's used to do to him when they were kids.

Unexpectedly, Dean's breath hitched in his chest and he considered the arm around him. He'd always done the holding, always been the one to pull his brother close when he needed it the most. In truth, Dean didn't even know if it was possible for him to handle being held. But... it was on his list. And Sam couldn't possibly have known that because if he'd read that far on the list then he'd definitely read some things that would have had him confronted Dean. Clearing his throat a little, Dean shifted just slightly on the mattress. And then, on a spur of the moment whim, he rolled so he was facing his brother and shifted the rest of the way forward. Sam's chest was warm against him and Dean slid just a little down the bed so he could rest his head comfortable beside his brother's. He held his breath and waited for Sam's reaction, shoulders tense.

Sam slid one arm under Dean's neck and pulled him close. Dean still smelled like his leather jacket, a little like the car, and there was even the faintest smell of food from the restaurant. Sam just smiled and closed his eyes, head heavy on the pillow. Letting his fingers trail over the small of Dean's back, Sam started to drift off to sleep almost immediately.

Falling asleep in Sam's arms would be something Dean would never forget. And the way it made his sleep so peaceful and without dreams was more then he could have asked for. When he woke once in the middle of the night to use the bathroom, he stopped at his duffel bag to pull out the notebook and cross of two items with a small grin before hurrying back to the warmth of his brother and sliding close.

The moment the door opened Dean blew out a low whistle of appreciation. The room was more a suite then a room. It opened up to a large living room complete with a fantastic view of the strip - all lit up since the sun was already down - along with an ensuite kitchen. There was a room off to the side where Dean assumed the beds were. He left Sam to tip the bell hop who had insisted on carrying their bags up - even though Dean almost got into a smack down brawl with him over it - and went to explore. " _Jesus_ Sammy this place is insane." He shook his head as he wandered through to the bedroom, staring at the two large beds that already looked more comfortable than anything he'd seen.

The bathroom was just as massive with a Jacuzzi tub and a shower large enough to fit four people at least. When he came back out into the living room the bell hop was gone and Sam was closing the door. Dean beamed when his brother turned to him. "I could get used to a place like this." He headed toward the kitchen area. "There's even a freaking dishwasher. Dude. The fridge has _food_ in it. Think we have to pay for it? What ID did we check in under? Cause they'll never track us down with that." He tossed a grin over his shoulder at Sam and pulled out a couple beers. "Ah, we've finally arrived."

Dean's enthusiasm was contagious and Sam found himself grinning as he grabbed his beer. He looked around the room; it was very clean and very white. "So, what now? You just gonna hang out here all day and eat and drink?" Sam brushed his hair back off his face and stuck his empty hand in his pocket.

Shaking his head, Dean drained his beer and whipped at his mouth with the back of his hand. "No way. We'll go check out the floor. I stink though from the drive so I'm gonna make use of the mega shower first." Dean headed toward his duffel bag, grabbing both his and Sam's and heading toward the bedroom. "Come check out this room. The bed looks like it's made of marshmallow puff." He chuckled and tossed Sam's bag on one bed, taking the one closet to the door. Pulling out his notebook, Dean dropped down and crossed through the line about Vegas. He was so focused on the excited buzz in him he didn't even bother putting the notebook back, just stood and kicked off his boots before stepping out of his jeans and tugging off his shirt. "Okay shower now, then we'll go." Dean gave his brother one final grin before heading for the bathroom.

Sam stared at the book for a while, listening to Dean moving about in the bathroom; he even heard Dean laugh out-loud at something before the shower turned on. Smiling slightly, Sam moved over to the bed Dean had claimed and stood there staring down at the notebook. It was funny, it was such a small book, but it contained such huge things. Running a hand through his hair Sam stood there staring at it for a few more minutes. Reaching down he grabbed the notebook.

 _Stay at the fancy hotel in Vegas, whichever one that is._

 _Go to the top of the Empire State Building._

 _Go to New York City at all._

 _Skinny dip._

 _Teach Sam to know when to work on Baby._

 _Go to Canada and find a moose._

Sam smiled when he saw that Dean had crossed off the hotel item already. He listened for the shower and read further down the list.

 _Try sushi. Try not to puke after wards._

 _Ride a horse._

 _Go camping and sleep under the stars._

 _Get a professional massage._

 _Fall asleep being held._

 _Climb a mountain._

The sushi was easy, a horse? Really? That surprised him a little. They had a tent and Sam was pretty sure that he could convince Dean to pull it out when they had an opportunity. A band tightened around Sam's chest, _fall asleep being held_. He hadn't even known and it had been so important. Sam swallowed suddenly feeling as though there was a lump in his throat. He dropped the notebook to his side for a few minutes. The shower was still running in the bathroom and Sam was pretty sure he could hear Dean singing a Metallica song. It brought a smile to his face and he lifted the notebook again and read on:

 _Swim in the Atlantic._

 _Hold hands while driving._

 _Stay up ALL night watching horror movies and pointing out the mistakes._

 _Eat only chocolate for one day._

 _Shower in a waterfall._

 _Kiss Sam._

Something hurt in Sam's gut and he stared at the book for a few moments, reading the same line over and over. _Kiss Sam_. Sam heard the shower turn off and stood there holding the notebook, _Kiss Sam_. There was only one way to read that line and the pain in Sam's stomach twisted up a notch.

"Hey Sam for dinner tonight I was thinking-" Dean rounded the corner into the bedroom and stopped, eyes widening as they darted between Sam and the notebook clutched in his grip. The look on Sam's face was shock and something else Dean wasn't sure he'd ever seen. Disgust maybe? God... Dean couldn't even fathom the thought of Sam being _disgusted_ with him. "You weren't..." he snapped into gear, crossing the room in quick strides and snatching the notebook back. "You weren't supposed to read that." He flipped the notebook closed and moved to his duffel, embarrassed heat soaring through him as he searched for a clean pair of boxers.

Sam stumbled a step backwards and sat down hard on his bed. "What," his eyes were searching the hard lines of his brother's back, "does it mean?"

There was little doubt in his mind what Sam had read. Everything for the first few pages was normal, if not a little weird. But there was one. Just _one_ that let on to something more and Dean should have _known_ better. He didn't answer until he'd pulled on his boxers and a pair of jeans, until his arms were slipping through his shirt and he felt a little more ready to have this conversation, if that were even possible. "I think you know what it means. Pretty obvious." He spoke to his duffel bag, searching for a fresh pair of socks.

"But... I mean... you're my brother..." Sam blinked, looking over at Dean and wetting his lips.

"Why do you think I said you weren't supposed to read it," Dean mumbled and folded his arms across his chest, giving up on his quest for a pair of socks. He stared hard at the notebook, consumed with the sudden urge to through it out the window even if it wouldn't change the fact that now Sam _knew_. "Look Sam... it's just... I wasn't ever going too... it feels better. Hurts less. To get them out on paper. Even if they'll never come true. And that's... it's just... dammit you weren't supposed to read _it_." His voice sounded not as hard as he wished it did. Instead he just felt sad and miserable because chances were he had just officially made the next six months - the _last_ six months - into an awkward thing. Even if Sam dropped the whole thing right now, it'd still hang between them. Sam would touch him less, maybe not at all. Dean huffed out a breath at the thought, heart clenching painfully in his chest.

"What kind of kiss did you want?" Sam's cheeks were getting a little pink and he looked down at his fingers twisting together.

Dean's jaw clenched slightly and he turned to look at his brother. "Are you trying to make this worse for me? I think you're pretty aware what type of kissing I like to do." He dragged his tongue across his lips and turned back to his duffel bag, once more searching for socks. "I know you can't just forget this but... we only have this room for two nights. Can we just... pretend you didn't read that until after. Then you can punch me or hate me or run away, whatever you want. I just want to enjoy this..." Dean dropped onto the edge of the bed and tugged on his socks.

Sam scratched the back of his head and bit down hard on his bottom lip. It couldn't really be that much harder than any of the other things that were on the list. And, Dean, well, Dean _had_ given up his life. "Okay, so do it." Sam stood up and rubbed his sweaty palms on the thighs of his jeans.

"What?" Dean pushed up, instantly standing. "No Sam. I'm not... I don't need your pity whatever okay? I know it's wrong. I've been dealing with it for yea... I know it's wrong." He clenched his jaw once more and bent down to snatch up his boots.

"What?" You don't want to do it now?" Sam licked his lips and jammed his hands in his pockets.

With a heavy sigh Dean stepped into his boots and glanced at Sam. "Of _course_ I want to do it. But... not just..." His jaw clenched slightly, everything in him twisting uncertainly. Sam was offering him something he never thought he'd be able to have and how could he say no? But how could he say yes because once it happened... well then they would have crossed that line and there was a pretty good chance Sam wasn't going to like that and everything might change even _more._ "You don't even know what you saying Sam. I get that you're trying to, you know... because you think it's your fault I'm dying, that you can't save me. This isn't going to either. So just... forget it."

Sam didn't think that one kiss would save Dean, certainly not a kiss from him. He stepped forward quickly and grabbed Dean's arm, tugging him off balance and swinging him back so they were face to face. Slipping his hand up Dean's arm and around the back of his neck he leaned down, lips inches away from Deans, "I won't ask again," he whispered and licked his lips again.

Dean's heart kick started, his blood pulsed through his veins faster than he thought possible, and heat soared through him. "Don't hate me after," he breathed, hand coming up to tangle in the back of Sam's hair. This was it and he knew it, his one chance to have that secret forbidden thing he shouldn't even be having. But Sam was - for whatever the reason - persistent and Dean had lost the reasons to say no. He was going to make this count.

Stepping forward so their bodies were practically flushed together, Dean brought Sam's lips to his, brushing across the soft silk in gentle glides. Sparks shot through him and he slanted his head to the slide, angling for the best way to press their lips more firmly together. Sam's mouth was warm, smooth, and Dean slid his tongue out to trace along the curve of his lower lip, sweeping at the corner before moving to the upper. His hand in Sam's hair tightened, the other moving to wrap around the small of his brother's back, bringing him forward as his hips rocked firmly against Sam's.

The strangest part of it all wasn't that Sam was being kissed by his brother; it was that his knees nearly gave out and his heart was beating so fast he was pretty sure - if it could - it would fly right out of his chest. He didn't mean to moan, and when he realized the sound came from him, and was swallowed up by his brother's mouth he started to feel like he was going a little bit crazy. Sam's hands fluttered beside Dean's body for a few moments. The warmth of Dean's mouth, the wet heat, the pressure of his hands, the shudder that ran down Sam's spine; everything was more than he expected, more than he was ready for. His hands moved in between them and pushed Dean back, breaking the kiss. Dean's eyes were still closed and Sam stepped back until he ran into the bed and sat down.

Dean had been expecting the end but for a moment he felt like Sam was still hovering right there. His heart was still doing its odd double time patter and his blood was boiling. He was mostly hard and his lips tingled in a way that was completely foreign to him. Kissing Sam was better than any of the times he imagined it. Only then he'd always imagined Sam not wanting to stop at just kissing. And it washed over him now that he would never be satisfied with another person again, and that Sam had done this just for his benefit. He supposed then it was a good thing his life was coming to an end because living the rest of it knowing what _was_ out there was going to be torture in and of itself.

Swallowing, Dean turned slowly and walked out of the room to the kitchen. It seemed safest. Sam probably needed a minute to stop from utterly freaking out and Dean definitely needed a moment to make sure he wasn't going to break down and cry over everything that couldn't be.

If it weren't for the fact that Sam's lips were still tingling and he could actually feel that he was... _Jesus._ Sam flopped back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. His heart was still ricocheting around in his chest like it did when they were on a hunt and things got completely out of hand. "Dean?" His voice shook a bit when he called out.

Draining half his beer, Dean slowly turned and walked back to the door frame, leaning against it and staring at Sam's body sprawled on the bed. Which, honestly, was pretty not cool to do to his over active imagination that already _knew_ how kissing Sam was, and could easily imagine everything else. "Yeah?" He asked softly, spinning the bottle in his fingers.

Sam's voice was thick, "you okay?"

"Uh..." Dean drained the rest of his beer and turned so his back was against the door frame, feet sliding out to rest against the opposite panel of wood. His head fell back against the wooden surface and he sighed. "What do you want me to say here Sam? No I'm not okay. But that... it wasn’t... the reasons I'm not okay doesn't mean you've done anything wrong okay?"

Closing his eyes, Sam took a deep breath. "Do you think you could cut me some slack and stop being so defensive? I'm... I'm trying here." He was trying to forget the fact that what he'd just done hadn't been what he had expected. Not at all. It was much, much more than he had thought it would be.

"Maybe you can cut me some slack," Dean wet his lips. Even with the taste of beer that lingering one of Sam was still too strong. "I've felt this way about you... for a long time now. And I don't know if experiencing it and knowing..." Dean sighed and gave up. There was just no way to convey the magnitude of _stupid_ this whole thing was and Dean couldn't believe he'd allowed himself to give in. "I'm sorry Sam. I shouldn't have... I... it wasn't right to use you like that." He pushed up from his lean against the door frame and headed back out into the kitchen for another beer.

Sam pushed himself up so he was sitting on the edge of the bed again. "Wait a minute, you didn't use me. I wanted to help you... y'know, cross another thing off your list." The problem was that it had dropped him right in the middle of a tempest he didn't want to deal with, certainly not in his own brain.

Nodding slowly, Dean twisted off the cap of his beer and stared at the counter. "Yeah, thanks for that," he mumbled softly, not even sure if Sam had heard it. Sure it was one thing off the list but it only sparked up a million more things he'd like to do but certainly wouldn't get the chance to. _Dammit_ the thing shouldn't have even gone on the list in the first place.

"You know what, Dean? Screw off." Sam pushed up off the bed grabbing his jacket and swinging it around his shoulders, jamming his hands in the sleeves. "I'm going out, enjoy the room. Gimme the car keys." Sam held out his hand. He was trying so hard to make things better, make them right and not only had he opened up a whole mess of problems in his own mind but apparently, Dean was going to treat him like shit for the rest of the night. "Gimme the keys now."

"Dammit Sam, give me a break here," Dean sighed heavily, turning to Sam after he'd set his beer bottle on the counter. "I know you're trying to help me but... it's taking all of me not to just repeat that kiss, and do more, because I _want_ you and I've been trying to deal with that by myself for awhile now. I never meant for you to read that. I never meant to put you in this place. And I'm _sorry_ I've fucked everything up because I'm some sick twisted fuck who wants his brother okay?" His voice shook a little as he finished and crossed the room to his coat, pulling out the keys and setting them on the table before heading back into the bedroom and dropping down to sit on the side of the bed and stare at the carpet with wide eyes, a little shocked at the things he'd just said.

The words just added to the mess that was going on in Sam's mind. As if he'd even had time to process the fact that Dean kissing him, _hadn't_ been horrible, or disgusting or all the other things that Sam had thought it would be. In fact, when Dean said he was fighting the urge to do it again, it was like some sort of fire ran straight through Sam's body. "You're not a twisted fuck." It was the best he could come up with and it wasn't nearly enough. He could tell by the emotions that were flitting across Dean's face that he was having his own internal battle. "It didn't..."

Dean turned slightly toward Sam's voice. "I feel like it. Like I am. Because you’re my _baby_ brother and I..." he shook his head and stared down at his hands for awhile. Then his curiosity got the best of him and he added. "It didn't what?"

"It didn't... feel like I thought it would." Sam's tongue felt like it was about three feet thick. "Listen, do you want to go down and gamble or something? It's your thing... to be here. We can fight anytime." Sam's hands were shaking a little. He really had thought it seemed like a good idea to kiss his brother - just so they could draw a line through _one_ more thing.

Pushing up from the bed, Dean walking silently back into the room and pulled on his coat. "You're doing all these things... just cause I want to. This... none of this is what you want to do?" He glanced over at Sam. "Because if you'd rather go off on your own you know that's okay. I can deal." He didn't want Sam to go but he hated the idea that he was unintentionally guilt tripping his brother into doing all these things. He didn't even know if Sam _liked_ to gamble.

"Can you use your brain for a minute?" Sam was getting frustrated, at his own inability to get things out, the situation and the fact that Deans was suffering with the guilt of the world. As usual. "The other night, when... when... we fell asleep together, when _I_ got in bed with you. I wanted that." Sam sat down hard again on the bed. "I didn't know that was on your list you self-centered... I didn't know- so yeah, I want things... some things."

 _"Self-centered?" Dean arched an eyebrow at him but said nothing more on the subject, slowly shaking his head. "Okay. Well then... I guess..." he shrugged and picked up his car keys off the table, stuffing them into his pocket. "Sam... what did it feel like?" He asked quietly, staring down hard at the ground._

 _"What did what... oh." As soon as he realized what Dean was asking his blood started racing around in his body again. "It felt like too much - in that way that... like you think you didn't even know you wanted something, and when you figure it out it feels like everything inside you has been short-circuited a little bit." He looked at Dean and saw he was staring down at the floor, "like that." He lowered his own eyes feeling that all-too-familiar flush creeping up his body._

 _That was definitely not what Dean had been expecting to hear and he blinked a few times, processing things. Once more dragging his tongue across his lips he walked over to where Sam was sitting and hovered there, eyes lifting to stare at the top of his head. "I... okay. Thanks for, you know, telling me," he swallowed, hesitating for a moment before reaching out and catching a strand of Sam's hair in his hand. "Sorry for being an ass. I just... never really thought this would come out you know? I thought it would be something I took to my grave," he flinched a little at the words, wishing he hadn't said it like that._

 _Just like that, the band of pressure tightened around Sam's chest again. He tipped forward and leaned his cheek against his brother's body. "Don't say that." His arms slipped around Dean's waist and settled there._

 _Nodding softly, Dean stepped closer to Sam so the man didn't have to lean forward quite as much. "I know," he breathed and let his hand slide through Sam's hair. He had no idea what this meant, if there was a suggestion of more, but he did know they were both reaching their emotional limits. "So, think we can salvage the rest of this evening? I mean, after the fighting thing there were other things that weren't bad..." Dean shook his head and chuckled. "I really do need to use my brain."_

 _"Whatever you want," Sam mumbled against his brother's shirt. "Could go see some things and come back here and watch movies... or have supper..." Sam's grip didn't loosen. He was scared to let go for so many reasons, half of which he wasn't even able to face head-on yet._

 _"I'd like that. We can just walk around downstairs, check out the sights," he stroked Sam's hair in his palm. "Horror movies all night?" He suggest with a soft chuckle. With a little pushing he managed to pry himself from Sam's grip enough to drop down so he was kneeling in front of the man, hand still buried in his hair. "You know I'm gonna make you jump out of a plane with me right?" He asked with a soft smile, dipping down to try and catch Sam's eyes._

 _"I actually feel like I just did," Sam blinked and pushed his lips into a slight smile._

 _Letting his hand slid from Sam's hair to his neck, cupping the muscle, Dean dipped dangerously forward before stopping himself. "Tell me about it," he breathed and wet his lips. "Sorry," he added, sliding back to give the man his surely much needed space._

 _"D..Don't be sorry." Sam leaned forward and pressed a wet kiss to the side of his brother's mouth then slid their cheeks together so his lips were touching Dean's ear. "Just... slow, okay?" His hands were shaking and he grabbed a fistful of Dean's shirt to try and stop it._

 _And once again his heart was lurching and racing and trying to figure out a way to explode out of his chest. It would be a miracle if Sam didn't cause him to drop dead from a heart attack before that time actually came. Shifting so he was between Sam's legs, he let his arms wrap around Sam's body and hold him close. The skin beneath his ear had prickled under the sensitive touch and turned his head to bury into Sam's neck, pulling in a shaky breath before pressing a soft kiss to the skin. "Okay. Slow." He mumbled, thrilled at the idea of anything at all, even if it moved at glacier pace and he didn't have a lot of time left._

 _Sam's breath hitched as Dean's lips touched his neck, it was like little shocks darted through him, setting off his nerve endings. Without any conscious thought he let his head fall to the side, giving Dean all the room he wanted. Sam let out a long sigh, arms still tight around his brother, long fingers clawing against his brother's back._

 _Pulling back just enough to stare at the skin exposed to him and wet his lips; Dean pulled in yet another shaky breath before sliding his lips once more along the flesh. The way Sam's fingers dug into his back, the soft noises he was making, Dean wasn’t certain how he was going to keep from pushing things too far too fast. It would come down to Sam completely. Dean opened his mouth slightly and let his tongue come out to draw a line up the flesh, pulling in Sam's taste with just the slightest moan and roll of his hips slightly into the mattress._

 _Sam was shaking. From the moment he felt Dean's tongue slip out and graze across his throat his body started to vibrate. He almost whimpered, he could hear the desperation in his own voice, quiet and soft against his brother's ear. It didn't feel wrong, it was just overwhelming - there'd been so much to deal with in the past while, so many things to try and figure out. "Dean? No...." he buried his face in his brother's neck, "wait, please." And even as _no_ came out of his mouth, he could feel himself shuddering with something different, something dangerously strong._

Turning his head away from his brother's neck, Dean pulled in a sharp breath and tightened his arms around him. "S'okay," he murmured and ran his hand down Sam's back. It was going to take a great deal of Dean's patience to resist pushing things any further. He knew Sam was going to need some serious time to think about this stuff and the best thing to do was just give him that. After all, Dean may have been feeling these things for awhile, but for all Sam knew, they didn't exist until minutes earlier. "I think... we should go..." He didn't want to stop holding Sam but just in the way Sam was going to need time, Dean was going to need space or he would run the risk of doing something bad.

It was hard for Sam to breathe and even harder for him to let go of Dean. He knew his brother, could sense the restraint. "I don't mean no... Just wait..." Anxiety flooded through him at the idea that Dean might go back to beating himself up over what had happened. Pulling back slowly, almost afraid to look at his brother's face, Sam smiled weakly. "Don't be angry, I just gotta figure some things out."

"Mm not angry," Dean murmured, still continuing his soothing strokes along Sam's back. "I was trying to give you some space to figure things out," he chuckled softly and readjusted himself on his knees. Sam's arms were like a vice around. Not that he really mind. Sam could hold him as tight as he'd like, as long as they were okay.

Sam wanted to smile but he wasn't sure he was actually able. "I think I need a drink," he mumbled, "a lot of drinks." He shifted back finally managing to unclench the hold he had on Dean. "How long?"

Sitting back on his heels, Dean frowned slightly, "How long?" He scratched at his head curiously, then the question clicked in his mind and he swallowed a few times. "Oh... um... a while. Years. You want to know about it?" He rubbed his palm against his leg before climbing up and sliding onto the bed beside Sam, wrapping his arm around the man.

Sam chewed his bottom for a few moments painfully aware of his brother's arm, the warmth and strength of it. "I think," he glanced at dean out of the corner of his eye, "yeah, I would like to know."

"I..." Dean curled his fingers around Sam's hip, fingers working along the flesh softly. "The first time I... saw you that way... you were..." Dean pulled his hand back, leaning his forearms against his thighs. "Seventeen. We were in that house in Indiana, remember the one with that mailbox that looked like a cow that we used to throw rocks at?" He swallowed, a soft smile on his lips. "It was just before Christmas and you... you came home from school all pissed off because these guys were beating on some younger kid and you'd gotten into a big fight. You were yelling about them being assholes for awhile and then you turned to me and there was just this _look_ you had on your face. You told me how you wanted to be there for people, stick up for the underdog, how that was what you wanted to do with your life. And I guess... that was the first I realized the way I felt for you was more. Everything just evolved from there. I thought it would go away when you were gone, I thought it had gone really. But then I saw you again and everything just returned... like you'd never left." Dean tightened his fingers together and glanced over at Sam with a faint smile.

"Seventeen," almost immediately Sam started sifting back through his memories wondering how he had managed to miss something so significant. All these years he thought he had known his brother relatively well and now - to find out he had missed something so huge. It made him wonder what else he had missed, and how he had managed to get so wrapped up in himself. "I didn't... I'm sorry..." what else was there to say?

With a small chuckle, Dean reached out and took Sam's hand, threading their fingers together. "Don't be sorry. Loving you... feeling _that_ way about you. It's just something I've adjusted to. My burden to bear or whatever. And well... I never thought... obviously..." Dean wet his lips and squeezed Sam's hand. "I never could have imagined living my life without you, so you know; I just did what I had to do." He gave another squeeze of Sam's hand before releasing it.

"Loving me," he echoed feeling that twist in his stomach again. His eyes widened and he turned to gaze into his brother's eye. "Loving," he said it again more to convince himself that was what he had heard.

Biting down on his lip, Dean nodded, "Yeah Sammy..." He thought of his list and he couldn't resist the small chuckle. "I love you Sam. Always have, always will. And even though there are parts that mean more than just... what they should. There's still a brother thing to. If that makes sense," he glanced over at Sam again, reaching out to run his thumb along his brother's chin. "You just helped me cross another thing off my list unknowingly."

Sam just sat there trying to sort through everything. "Can I see it... Properly. Your list." He twisted slightly, facing his brother. "Tell me which ones matter most?" Inside, Sam was a rat's nest of feelings; outside he was trying to appear as calm as possible. He really wanted a drink.

"Uh... sure," Dean felt like every word out of Sam's mouth was throwing him for a loop, which was insane because he knew his brother definitely wasn't meaning to be like that. But Dean had never imagined having this discussion with him, talking about it as if it were something _sane_. He stood and walked to his duffel where the notebook was, picking it up and sliding the stack of pictures from the back. Once they were secured in the bag, he walked back to Sam and dropped down, flipping the notebook open.

For awhile he watched his brother read over the lines, wondering which ones made his face shift through different expressions. "I guess... there are some that I'd _really_ like to do. And there are some that would be cool to get around to if the opportunity presents itself. The ones I really want..." Dean leaned over to scan across the pages. "I..." He reached out to point, not sure he could make himself say them. His finger hovered over _Hold hands while driving_ and _Watch the sunrise with someone_. Catching his lower lip between his teeth, he slid his finger down, stopping on _Kiss someone in the rain_ and _Make love to someone. I.E. - don't just fuck them_. "I'd also really like to go to New York. And sleep under the stars. And ride a horse. That seems like something pretty easy to accomplish." He shrugged and shifted back, staring at the notebook.

"Okay." So many of the things seemed like things that Dean should have done already, simple things that people took for granted. Holding hands. "How... How do you get to be your age and never have... What about all the women?" He didn't mean to sound quite so shocked but it was almost inconceivable to him. But then, he'd had a different life than Dean, if only for a little while.

Lifting his shoulders in a shrug, Dean fixed his eyes on the ground. "Well... most of those women... it was basic fulfillment you know? A lot of it was me trying to shut off the thing that I really wanted. It was never about... you know, love. It was always just the one night," he dragged his tongue across his lips and sighed. "There weren't... tender moments. I keep telling myself I shouldn't even care. I get to live this life of carefree sex, whatever, it worked. For awhile. Until... well... I realized that in the end I'd have nothing to show..." Dean sighed once more and glanced over at Sam. "I must sound like a whiny teenager."

Sam pushed up off the bed and wandered over to the balcony door and stood there looking out. His mind was spinning; everything he'd known before was wrong or a misinterpretation and now, there was all this extra weight to everything he heard from Dean. Sam pressed his hands against the cool glass and let his head fall forward. There was no book of instructions for how to deal with your brother telling you he loved you, was _in_ love with you - let alone your brother who gave up his life to bring you back. How could he say no to Dean? How could he say yes? Sam was so messed up he couldn't even begin to answer those questions. "Seventeen," he murmured again, "I... man... years. And you never said a thing." Lifting his head, Sam stared out the window at the strip, watching all the flashing lights and signs.

Glancing up at Sam, Dean let his eyes trail over the lines of his brother's familiar figure. "How could I? How do you tell someone you feel that way when you shouldn't?" Dean shifted on the bed, legs crossing on the mattress as he continued to gaze at Sam. Not for the first time in his life, Dean wished that he had the power to read Sam's mind.

"How do you keep a... secret like that from me?" The truth was that Sam was a little hurt by Dean's ability to so easily hide something this huge from him. Sure, he didn't even know he was supposed to be looking for something like _this_ but he was with his brother almost 24 hours a day - every day and he missed this.

"I spent a lot of time denying it," Dean said softly picking at his bed spread. "And then... I just never said the words. But it was always there. You just... didn't know. I mean Sam, I sold my _soul_ for you. That... that's above and beyond the call of brotherly duty," he swallowed deeply, taking a deep breath to try and control the way his heart couldn't see to stop clenching. By the time they were done with this conversation Dean was going to need to drink himself into oblivion to get his mind to stop working overtime.

Sam's head snapped towards his brother. "That's why you did it? Because you loved me... not because I'm your brother." Sam shook his head slowly and turned to look back out the window. Everything was being yanked out from underneath him. Everything he thought he knew.

Dean sighed. He was really doing an awful job at explaining all of this. "It was both. They're connected, so closely intertwined there's really no difference between them. In my mind," he glanced up at Sam and reached up to ruffle a hand through his hair.

"No difference?" Sam's mouth stayed open, disbelief written all over his face, "no _difference_? Are you on crack? Dean," he shook his head and huffed out a cold laugh, "I'm used to you saying some crazy shit - but there's a big difference between what I thought... we were and what you want us to be. You don't get to just wave that away like it's the same thing." Sam walked over to the couch and sat down on the edge, knee bouncing, hands fidgeting with his sleeves. "It's not interchangeable," he muttered.

"Did you miss the in my mind bit? I'm not telling you to feel this way. I'm telling you how _I_ feel." Dean pushed to the edge of the bed, dangling his legs off the edge before pushing his feet into the carpet. "You don't get to tell me how I feel."

"I think I've been missing a lot of things, _obviously_." Frustrated, Sam pushed his hair back off his face and sighed. "I don't know how I didn't notice something. This is... you know this is crazy right?" He stood again and paced back to the window, "completely crazy."

Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Dean sighed _yet again_. "You think I haven't been through all this in my mind? I know it's crazy. Remember the sick twisted fuck bit? I'm _aware_ that I shouldn't feel this way for you." He dropped his hand to rub at his knee and once more observed his brother. "You weren't supposed to find out."

"I should have known!" Sam didn't mean to yell, it was almost like there was just so much inside of him it came out by sheer force. His words seemed to echo around the room for a few moments. "You're my brother, Dean. I've been watching you my whole life, learning to do things to way you do them, everything... _everything_ I've learned, and... I missed that… I didn't see it. What else have I missed, Dean? What other things have you hidden from me? And why?" Sam walked over and sat on the bed opposite his brother. Throwing his hands out palms up he questioned Dean, "you don't trust me? What do I do... what do I do with this when you're gone? What's supposed to happen to me? After..." His shoulders dropped and he rubbed his hands on his jeans.

"Damnit Sam, are you mad at me for _not_ telling you I _want_ you? This is ridiculous," Dean shook his head, looking at Sam with wide eyes. "I don't understand."

" _You_ don't understand." Sam pressed a hand over his eyes. His cool skin felt good, he felt exhausted and confused and just wanted to get the hell out of there but that seemed really unfair considering that Dean was laying everything on the line. "Okay," Sam took a deep breath and dropped his hands to his lap, "okay, do you need to ask me anything?" Sam looked up, his eyes catching Dean's, "'cause it's okay if you do - but then I wanna go get a drink and _not_ talk about this for a while."

Dean shook his head and pushed up. "No. I'm done discussing this." He headed for the door, hesitating for a moment. "Are you coming with me or are you going out on your own?" Dean would rather just go to the nearest liquor store and buy every bottle of hard alcohol they had. This wasn't the type of trip he'd had in mind and if this was how he was going to be with the list, Dean just wanted to chuck it and forget the whole thing. He wished he'd never made it, that Sam had never seen it, because pretending he didn't feel that way was a lot easier then the raw swell of emotions coursing through him.

Sam stood and wandered over to stand behind Dean, "I'll come with you." He was scared to say anything else. He felt like he had screwed everything up - Dean had looked so happy before... now it felt like everything had come undone.

"Okay," Dean nodded and grabbed the key card, heading from the front door. "I think... I'd like to get drunk. How about you?" He turned to look at Sam over his shoulder with a faint smile.

"Sure," Sam stuffed his hands in his pockets and stood there looking at his feet. "We going downstairs or driving somewhere?" He licked his lips.

"I guess just downstairs, unless you want to just go buy a shit load of alcohol and come back here," Dean slipped into his coat, glancing at Sam once more and wishing he had something to say that would kill the tension between them.

Sam shrugged a shoulder without taking his hands out of his pockets, "whatever you want, I'm okay with anything." Sam was starting to think it would have been better if he'd never found the notebook.

"Right." Dean nodded, silently heading for the door and tugging it open. Clearly, being drunk wasn't going to come fast enough.


	4. Chapter 4

Everything was spinning pleasantly and all the flashing lights really only added to the effect. It was nice. _Really_ nice to not be thinking about the conversation from not that long ago that had lasted _forever_ in his mind. Plus Sam was actually smiling again and that made it easier for Dean to smile, to sit back in the seat and relax. It was one of those warm, blanket sort of drunken times. Everything was just a little slower to catch up with itself and he felt warm all over. Dean hummed softly and turned his head to Sam, sliding off the bar stool. "I think... I want to go back to the room. There's beer there right?"

"There's beer there, and food, I could eat." Sam titled sideways and managed to find his feet easily enough. He'd lost track of how many drinks he'd had a few hours ago. Unfortunately, he hadn't completely forgotten _why_ it had been so easy to drink. But - he felt less concerned than he had while he was sober. If there was ever an appropriate time to be hammered - this was it as far as Sam was concerned. "Let's go, man." Sam strode towards the main entrance to the bar and looked around for the elevator.

Catching Sam's sleeve as he headed out of the bar, Dean hummed, "Mm food." He hadn't even realized that they'd missed dinner and skipped straight to drinks. The casino was definitely nice and Dean sort of regretted that they'd blown a night here with this whole thing so he made a silent vow to make up for it tomorrow. "This way," he stumbled slightly, raising his arm to rest of the cool marble wall for a moment before walking toward the elevators once more.

"You good?" Sam blinked and shook his head. He really needed to eat something and dilute some of the alcohol. "You look a little drunk." Sam nodded firmly.

"I am a little drunk," Dean admitted, stabbing at the up button between the elevators. Once they'd stepped inside and the doors closed he leaned against the wall and sighed heavily. "Are you a little drunk? Cause you sound a little drunk." He peeled his eyes open and dropped his head to stare at Sam.

"Pfft, I'm fine -you could never hold your liquor." Sam pushed the button a few more times and nodded knowingly when the elevator arrived. "See?" He walked into the elevator, "where are we again?" Sam started hunting through his pockets.

"I can hold my own. Better then you," Dean yanked the key card from his pocket and squinted at it. "612?" He looked up, scanning the door numbers before heading down the hall. "I could drink you under the table. Easily." Dean continued, smirking at Sam and coming to a quick stop in front of their door, fumbling with the key card a few minutes before getting the door light to turn green. "Hate those stupid things," he muttered as he walked into the room, kicking off his boots.

Preoccupied with trying to get his hand _out_ of his sleeve Sam clipped his shoulder on the doorframe as he wandered in behind his brother. Swearing under his breath he toed off his boots and shrugged out of his jacket, flinging it at the nearest chair and missing completely. "Ooooh, denied! No points on that shot." Hands jammed in his pockets, Sam ambled into the kitchen and opened the fridge. "What you drinking now, Dean?"

"What do we got?" Dean slipped out of his coat.

Sam bent down and rooted around in the fridge, bottles clinking. "Jelly beans!!" His hand popped up over the fridge door waving the jar of jelly beans. "We got all the hard liquors, including fifteen year old whisky, beer, um... some overly sweet looking lemonadey thing... anything you want?" Sam's eyes peered over the top of the door, blinking.

Wandering over to the kitchen, Dean pushed himself up on the counter. "Whiskey sounds good." He nodded and held open his hands. "Jelly beans too. Gimme those. Anything chocolate? Oh and I'd like pizza. Does the magic fridge have pizza?" He kicked his legs against the counter.

Sam pulled out the jelly beans, a bottle of whiskey and a Toblerone bar and handed them all to Dean. "That's probably like $200 worth of stuff right there, man." Sam grabbed the price list off the top of the fridge and squinted at it for a while before deciding the print was entirely too small and tossing it back. Knocking the fridge door shut with his hip Sam leaned against the counter beside his brother. "Jelly bean me."

Grinning, Dean poured a handful of jelly beans into his palm and tossed them into mouth. He grabbed one from the can and tossed it at Sam, laughing as it bounced off his hair. Trying again, he pinched a few between his fingers and held them up for Sam. "Worth it," he mumbled around the sticky sweet in his mouth.

Sam swatted at the flying jelly bean way too late, chuckled then leaned forward and grabbed the jelly beans out of Dean's hand. He tossed them in his mouth, "do you suck jelly beans or chew them?" His face was serious. It was an important question. Looking down, Sam darted at the jelly bean that had bounced off his head, "thirty second rule," he popped that jelly bean in his mouth too.

"Chew them," he nodded and made his point by pouring another handful in his mouth. Setting the jar down he turned to the whiskey bottle and twisted off the top. After a moment he raised it to his lips and took a swig. The liquid burned going down and he coughed slightly before holding it out for Sam. "S'good."

Sam took the bottle and took a huge gulp. He coughed and sputtered for a while, slamming his hand on the counter. "Jesus," he coughed a bit more, "tryin' a kill me." Even through the haze of alcohol Sam wished he hadn't said it. Sighing, he handed the bottle back to Dean. "Gonna sit on my bed..." Sam struggled out of his shirt and flopped face first onto his bed. "These beds are _so_ nice. Dean. We should _totally_ do this more often."

Taking another swig of the whiskey, Dean coughed slightly and headed for the bedroom, tugging off his own shirt and sitting on the edge of the opposite bed. He swayed slightly then blinked a few times. "Fuckin' expensive," he mused and rubbed his neck, eyes traveling along Sam's body as he distinctly remembered the taste of the man's lips against his, the way their heat had been pressed together so tightly. "Thought we were gonna eat somethin'..."

"Make me something," Sam rolled over to face Dean, propping his head up on his hand. "I'll eat whatever you make." He yawned and scratched his chest. "Helluva day." Unfortunately, Sam's mind was still functioning. He was shooting for complete and utter oblivion but thought that possibly would have to stop barely short of alcohol poisoning.

"Make you something?" Dean snorted even as he pushed back up and headed for the door. "Spoiled rotten..." he mumbled as he stumbled to the fridge. Luckily there were premade sandwiches wrapped in plastic packaging so Dean grabbed a couple and the jelly beans - tucking the chocolate under his arm and somehow still managing to snag two bottles of water. He barely made it back to Sam's bed before dropping everything down and flopping half across Sam's legs. "Here freak, tuna," he tossed the tuna sandwich at Sam and grabbed the ham one.

"I like tuna and I'm not a freak." Coming from Dean _that_ was priceless. "Did you cross kiss Sam offa your list," he asked and then took a huge bite of his sandwich. Chewing he stared over at Dean, wondering what he was thinking.

Peeling off the packaging around the sandwich, Dean shook his head, "Didn't have the time. I'll get to it. Got another to cross off too." He took a few big bites from the food and grabbed the bottle of water. "Why does it matter?" He blinked and looked at him. "I mean, no. I know _why_ it matters but why does that particular uh... fuck what am I trying to say?" He shook his head and sloshed some water on his arm. "Forget it."

Sam shook his head, puzzled, "why does what particular... what?"

"Why does... what?" Dean looked at him with wide eyes and laughed. "Dude. You confuse me." He turned and picked at the denim stretching across Sam's legs. "You're eager for me to cross it off?" Dean flattened his fingers along the material, sliding up to cup Sam's knee.

"You're my brother." Sam said, as though that was all the explanation in the world. And in Sam's mind; it was. Dean was everything to him, and if Dean had _months_ left - then Sam really would do anything he could to make the time special. "It's not like you're just moving to another state for a job, you're going to _Hell_."

Dean shifted and picked at little pieces of fuzz along Sam's thigh above his knee. "I know. I try not to think about it." He stared at his hand on Sam's leg, watching it inch forward as if he had no control of it. When he was closer to Sam's crotch then he should be - _too close_ \- he finally managed to stop and look up at Sam's eyes with wide eyes. "Uh... sorry."

Sam took another bite of his sandwich, "for what?" He was fully aware of Dean's hand on his thigh, and fully aware that he didn’t dislike it. Besides, it was a touch, a simple touch - and he was wearing his jeans; it wasn’t like Dean hadn't touched him before. "Don't over think everything, Dean."

"Okay," Dean nodded but moved his hand anyway, scooping up the jelly beans and twisting off the lid. As he popped a few in his mouth he tossed the extra water bottle at his brother. "Drink this or you'll regret it tomorrow," he nodded wisely and shifted along the bed so his thigh rested against Sam's, heat burning between them. He stared at the wall and the headboard for a few minutes before pinching a few more jelly beans between his fingers and holding them out for Sam.

Sam opened his mouth and rolled toward Dean.

Swallowing, Dean leaned forward enough to slip the jelly beans into his brother's mouth, breath hitching when he felt the slightest touch of silky lips against his fingers. "Water," he mumbled, eyes fixated on Sam's mouth. His fingers were tingling and even though there was a slight fuzz to everything, his mind seemed surprisingly clear.

Sam held out his hand for a bottle of water and sucked on the jelly beans. "You know, if I had a list like yours, _drink skittles vodka_ would be on there, and _sleep on the front seat of the Impala with my head on your lap_ , cause then I might actually have enough room for my legs." He chewed what was left of the jelly beans and swallowed. "I think I'd also add make… well, I dunno, gimme some more jelly beans?"

"You should make one," Dean pulled out a few more jelly beans and held them against Sam's lips, small smile playing at his lips. "You know, your own list. We can work on both. Maybe... it can be the things... the things you wanna do before I... go." He dropped the jelly beans into Sam's mouth, index finger sliding along his brother's lower lip.

Sam's eyes locked with Dean's for a few moments then his tongue slid along his lip where his brother's finger had left a tingling path. "Maybe I could write in the back of yours." He chewed the jelly beans and pushed himself up on his elbows, "can I?"

Nodding, Dean's lip curved up in a small smile, "Yeah, you can. As long as I can read it." He tipped a handful of the jelly beans in his mouth and let the finger that had rested against Sam's lip rest against his for a moment.

Thinking about it for a few moments, Sam closed his eyes and lay back down on the bed. "Okay," he held out his hand, "lemme have it."

Clambering off the bed, Dean headed toward his duffel and snatched up the notebook and the pen. "I'mma cross off the things." He mumbled and dropped back on the bed beside Sam, flipping the book open. He drew a line through _Kiss Sam_ and _Tell Sam I love him_. "Here," he pushed the notebook into Sam's chest, slipping his hand down to rest briefly on Sam's abs just below the paper.

Grabbing up the notebook, Sam flipped to the end of the book. "Pen?" Sam patted his chest, and the bed beside him looking around for the pen. "Where'd it go?"

Dean blinked, staring at the pen low on Sam's chest, right above his waist line. A slow smile tugged at his lips as he curled his fingers around the thing, trying not to suck in a deep breath to obviously when his skin slid against the bare patch just above the man's jeans, hesitating for just a moment. "Pen," he offered, holding it out and waiting for Sam to take it before shifting to grab the bar of chocolate.

Scratching the pen across the paper for a while, Sam glanced at Dean a few times. He held out his hand and waited for Dean to give him a piece of chocolate, threw it in his mouth and kept writing. Finally, he rested the book against his chest and tucked the pen behind his ear. "Okay I'm done for now."

Sucking at the chocolate in his mouth, Dean leaned forward to glance at the paper. His fingers brushed along the curves of Sam's abs, up to the notebook. "Can I look now?" He asked softly, rubbing his brother's stomach softly. When Sam nodded, Dean smiled and pulled the notebook up, eyes scanning over the lines.

 _Drink skittles vodka_

 _Sleep on the front seat with my head on Dean's lap_

 _Make Dean smile more, it looks good_

 _Find a way out of the deal_

 _Get Dean to eat salad_

With a small chuckle he looked up. "You know the salad thing is on my list too. So... that's something," he watch Sam smile in return and dropped his eyes once more. "Eat chocolate cake dude? Like you haven't had it before..." he mumbled as he read the next line.

 _Love Dean more_

Dean blinked at the line, eyes looking up at Sam for a long moment. There were so many things that could mean... Dean decided trying to think about it now just wasn't going to work. Too much for his brain. They'd discuss it later.

 _Spend more time drunk_

 _Kiss Dean_

Swallowing thickly, Dean flipped the notebook closed and leaned across to set it on the nightstand. He remembered the time when he'd written those words, how heavily they had weighed on him, how _important_ they had seen. "It's... looking good. I'd like to help you with them. The things that I can." He said softly and shifted onto his side slightly, reaching out to trace the small lines along Sam's abs.

Sam turned his head slightly so he could look at Dean's face, "so you'll eat salad?" Lips twitching into a smile Sam rolled towards Dean and reached his arm over him then rolled back with the chocolate in his hand. "I thought of another one, gimme the book back." Sam licked the chocolate off his fingers and held out his hand.

"Jeez I spoil you," Dean rolled his eyes, snagging the notebook once more and tossing it on Sam's chest.

"Your fault remember?" Sam waved his left arm, "cast?" He yanked the pen from behind his ear and flipped the book back over and wrote; closed the book and tossed it behind Dean. Snapping off another piece of chocolate Sam bit half the triangle and held the rest out to Dean.

Dean arched curious eyebrows at Sam and when he got a nod, he turned and flipped open the notebook to read the added bits. _hold Dean's hand_ and _show Dean what tenderness is_. Swallowing thickly, Dean flipped the notebook closed and curled his fingers around the spiral. He blinked a few times down at the bed, dragging his tongue across his lips. "Oh." He breathed out, and rolled so he could stretch out beside Sam, shoulders resting together. He turned his head to Sam with a smile, setting the notebook to the side and snatching up the chocolate

Sam brushed the backs of his fingers across the back of Dean's. "Are you scared?" His voice was quiet and he kept his eyes trained on the ceiling.

There was a part of him - the part that always sought to protect Sam - that wanted to lie. Then there was the other part of him that had oddly emerged in the past few hours along with the possibility of something more. And he figured that maybe Sam knew the answer anyway. "Yes." He nodded and let his hand return the brush against Sam's.

Sam pushed up on his elbows and looked down at his brother, "where's the whiskey?" He wasn't feeling as drunk as he had when they came up to the room and that wasn't good. There were a lot of things that Sam could take, and maybe he shouldn't have asked the question if he didn't want to hear the answer. Sam remembered one of their professor's from law school telling them _never ask a question you don't know the answer to._ This was one of those times. Sam's whole life, he'd never thought Dean was scared of anything.

Sighing, Dean pushed off the bed and headed toward the kitchen, coming back a moment later with the bottle. "Here," he handed it to Sam after he took a swig and dropped onto the edge of the bed, picking up the chocolate once more. It'd be great if he could get drunk off sweet food.

Sam held the bottle up and swallowed three quick gulps of whiskey, coughed and put the bottle on the bedside table. " _Jesus_ ," his voice was gruff. Flopping back beside his brother Sam tried to decide what to do, or, what _not_ to do. Too many choices. Sam rolled toward Dean and his arm snaked slowly over his brother's abs. Almost immediately his heart started racing. _Shit_ , Dean was like pure adrenaline. Sam was glad he was drunk. "So," Sam's fingers settled against Dean's side, moving in small brushes back and forth, "when you get scared what do you do?" Sam propped his head up on his hand and watched Dean's face.

Eyes fluttering at the touch of Sam's skin against his, Dean took a deep breath before meeting Sam's eyes. "I can't say I get scared very often. The few times I have... well... I just push through it. Try not to think about it," he shrugged and took the bottle of whiskey, tipping it back for a longer drink then he could necessarily handle. He sputtered slightly at the burn and wiped a hand along mouth.

"I always went to you... go to you... I mean, it's different now than when I was a kid. Dude, my nightmares, you know? You remember how I used to climb into bed with you?" Sam rested his palm flat against Dean's skin like he was testing his own limits, maybe he was - maybe he was just too drunk to worry about very much. _Finally_. Sam shifted closer, clumsily, so that he could rest his head on his brother’s chest. "Is that why... you stopped letting me do that? After my nightmares? 'Cause of how you felt?"

"Well... you were almost eighteen... seemed like..." Dean sighed and lifted his hand to run it through Sam's hair. "Plus dad had a few negative thoughts on the issue... I would have loved to have you in my arms every night. Which was kind of the final straw on the issue," he chuckled softly, staring up at the ceiling

"What did Dad think was going on? There was nothing going on. There wasn't was there?" It wasn't that Sam was particularly confused; he didn't remember anything out-of-ordinary but then - everything about their lives was out-of-the-ordinary in one way or another. Pulling his hand back slowly, Sam dragged his rough palm across Dean's abs tracing over a long scar from some hunt sometime, somewhere.

"Nothing going on... just dad being dad," Dean continued trailing his fingers through his brother's hair. "I think he was worried you wouldn't be ready. You know... for life." Dropping his eyes down to the top of Sam's hair, muscles fluttering low in his stomach. "I don't mind. Holding you. Obviously," he couldn't help chuckling, slipping in the fuzzy alcohol daze in his mind.

"Dad was an asshole." Sam flopped further across Dean's chest to snatch the liquor bottle from his brother's hand. After a couple of big gulps he put the bottle back in Dean's hand and settled back against his side, hand settling over Dean's chest. "That's why I left." Sam could feel Dean's muscles tense; his brother had never been pleased with the issues Sam had had with their father. "Asshole," Sam muttered wiping extra whiskey off his lips by rubbing them against Dean's chest.

"Let's not," Dean breathed, shifting beneath his brother's touch slightly. He lifted his head and sipped at the liquor before placing it on the nightstand. "When you gonna work on your list?" Dean murmured, eyes drifting a little before pulling back up.

Sam turned so he was resting his chin on Dean's chest, "let's not what? Gimme the bottle." He held out his hand.

Dean helped himself to another few swallows before handing Sam the bottle. "Let's not talk about dad."

"Why not?" Sam swallowed and held on to the bottle, settling it on the mattress against his side, "who'm I gonna talk to about him when you're gone? No one." Sam tapped the bottle against Dean's chest.

"Did you have more to say outside 'he was an asshole'?" Dean slid his arm under his head to prop it up and stare down at Sam easier.

"He gave you," Sam pointed the bottle at Dean's chest again, "too much responsibility. Made you grow up _way_ too fast." Sam took another swig of whiskey. Oh, he was _absolutely_ drunk now - he had reached that wonderful level of buzz where he could tell the truth about absolutely anything. It was good.

"We both had burdens to bear, that was mine," Dean shrugged and pried the bottle from Sam, taking another drinking and setting it to the side. "Finish your water or you won't even be able to drag your ass out of bed tomorrow to explore with me."

"Bossy," Sam reached around behind him for the water bottle and fumbled with the bottle top for a while. "What are we doing tomor... wait... I want to talk about you." Sam smiled and finally managed to get the lid off and drank about half the bottle, gasped, and then shifted closer to his brother. Fumbling around a bit Sam put the top back on the bottle and tossed it behind him. He reached up and patted Dean's cheek the leaned up to whisper conspiratorially, "I might have played a trick on you."

Chuckling slightly, Dean reached out to flick back some of Sam's hair. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd seen Sam so playfully drunk. He could remember the last time he'd seen him _drunk_ and that involved making promises about killing him if need be. Shoving that thought away, Dean focused in on the man through his drunken haze. "And what was that?"

Sam crooked his finger, trying to get Dean to come closer, then hooked his arm around his brother's neck and pulled him down until his lips were against Dean's ear. "When I wanted to sleep with you, sometimes, I hadn't had a nightmare." He fell back onto the bed very pleased with himself.

Dean tried not to think too much about the tingling coming from the side of his neck. "And... why would you do that?" He asked softly, reaching out to run his thumb along Sam's jaw line slowly.

Sam could really, pretty much not feel anything anymore and that was nice. He might regret it in the morning but for now, it felt very good. Sam leaned closer again, fingers curling and uncurling in the soft hair on the back of Dean's neck. He strained his neck so he was close to Dean's ear again, "I just wanted to be next to you in bed," he whispered and planted a wet kiss on Dean's neck.

"Oh..." Dean breathed, head tilting to the side to automatically give his brother more room. This was probably a bad idea. He should get up and go to his bed and not be this close to the man when they were both so very _drunk_. But it had been a very _long_ time since he enjoyed another's touch so much so he stayed. "That's... I like that." He swallowed and shifted slightly on the bed.

"You like that I wanted to be near you or you liked this, " Sam brushed his damp lips back and forth across Dean's cheek a few times then let his head fall back to the mattress. "Which?"

"Both," Dean said in a shaky voice, staring down into Sam's eyes. "Though I like the kissing thing a tad more," he admitted with a soft smile and leaned down to press a soft kiss to the corner of Sam's mouth.

Sam's finger was back pointing at Dean's chest again, " _You_ are only getting away with this because I'm drunk." He slid his hand up through Dean's hair and brought their mouths closer together. Sam grinned and let his tongue dart out and run across Dean's lip. "I wouldn't be doing this sober," he laughed and leaned up to catch Dean's bottom lip between his teeth. It had been a long time since Sam had been with anyone, anyone at all, and Dean loved him. _Loved_ him.

The words washed over Dean like a sobering bucket of ice. He rolled away, lip stinging a bit from the way he'd needed to drag it away from Sam's teeth. "Right." He nodded and pushed to the edge of the bed, dropping his feet to the ground. "I think it's time to sleep." He rubbed his hand hard against his eyes, trying to control the way his heart ached. _I wouldn't be doing this sober_ and there stood the cold, hard truth. Everything in this moment was because of Sam's high level of intoxication.

Sam's hand grabbed at Dean's leg and he pushed himself up. "What? Don't... come on..." Sam shifted closer to Dean one foot on the floor and one leg behind his brother. "You said you'd help with my list."

"No," Dean pushed up off the bed, steadying himself with a hand on the nightstand. "I'm not doing this while you’re drunk. While we're _both_ drunk. It's not a to do while we're drunk list." He stepped toward his bed, dropping down on it gratefully. "None of the things on my list were meant to happen while I was drunk."

"Oh my God, Dean. _Now_ you're gonna get all moral about things?" Sam pushed up off the bed and wobbled a bit then flopped down on Dean's bed. He let his fingers trail down his brother's back, very softly, and leaned in to nuzzle against Dean's neck. "Please..." Sam's voice was deep and rough.

In a flash Dean had Sam pinned beneath him on the bed, rocking against him in one quick, fluid motion. "This what you want Sam? You want me to take you right here?" He hissed the words, consumed for the time with the anger boiling in his veins. "Then I can make sure my soul is nice and tarnished even more for hell." He spat and pushed his thigh into Sam's crotch once more before climbing of the bed and staring down at his brother's sprawled form. "I think not." He turned to Sam's bed and grabbed a pillow. "I'm gonna go sleep on the couch."

Sam was angry. He couldn't remember ever having been as angry. Rolling off his brother's bed, Sam stumbled forward a few steps and started hunting around the bedroom for his shirt. When he finally found it he tugged it down over his head and moved quickly out into the living room, picking up the car keys from the table where Dean had left them earlier. Ignoring the look Dean was giving him Sam stopped long enough to pick up his jacket off the back of the chair and moved towards the door.

"Don't," Dean darted across the room and snagged Sam's arm. "You are way too drunk to drive. If one of us has to go I will but I can't let you leave like this," his voice had lost its edge and he tugged on Sam. "Come on Sam. You know you don't want this. Sleep it off, let that thought come back to you." He clung to Sam's arm, not above begging if that's what it took to get Sam to stay.

Sam yanked his arm away from Dean. "That was a shitty thing to do," he gestured toward the bedroom. "I didn't want you to _fuck_ me - I wanted to kiss you." Sam sank back against the door, "don't you _ever_ do that to me again. If you ever touch me like that... I swear to God I'll punch you."

Dean let go of him and took two steps back. "You told me you wouldn't even be doing it if you weren't drunk. I don't want to kiss you on those terms." He turned away from him, swallowing hard. "I'm sorry for doing..." he gestured to the bedroom as well, shaking his head.”It was shitty. Please just... don't drive in the condition you're in." He stepped away further, heading to the kitchen for water, pulling out a bottle and draining it's contents. "And it won't happen again."

"You're right; it won't happen again, I don't know what the hell I was thinking." Sam shrugged off his jacket and threw the car keys at Dean's feet. "You're no better than he was you know, you both... you both..." Sam turned and stumbled a few steps then strode into the bedroom.

After a moment of staring at the door, Dean shook his head and headed for the couch. Every part of him ached worse than it did earlier and for the first time ever he actually _wished_ it was his time. He was no good for Sam. The kid would be better off without him around to fuck everything up. Curling up on the sofa cushions, he closed his eyes and tried not to cry himself to sleep.

 

The only sleep Dean got was enough to officially pull him out of the drunken state. He still woke before the sun was just barely rising and he sat on the edge of couch for awhile, replaying everything that had happened. "Happy _fuckin_ Thanksgiving," he mumbled as he pushed up and went to take a shower. The water served its purpose in getting him cleaning and waking him slightly more but it didn't help the stress and tension coursing through him. And the coffee he made after that only made him more awake, more nervous for the day to come.

After wards he sat on the couch again for a few hours, nursing several cups of coffee, staring out the window until the sun was well above the buildings around them. Finally, when it was after ten, he meandered to the kitchen and pulled out a selection of things already stocked. He'd never thought hotels would come with fully stocked fridges but chances were they were assuming people who paid for suites like this over the holidays would want everything and going to a grocery store on Thanksgiving was like a suicide mission - if they were even open.

Dean spent too long cutting up vegetables, cracking eggs, working through a meal he wasn't even certain he knew how to cook. It had been awhile since he had to actually cooked anything for anyone. By eleven he had a large fluffy omelet, orange wedges, a glass of juice and water, all lined up on a tray he'd found when searching through the drawers. Moving to his bag he pulled out a bottle of Advil as well. Chances were Sam wasn't even going to be up to eating - he probably was going to have one killer headache - but it was the thought that counted.

Dean stood in front of the bedroom door for a long time, staring through at his brother's sleeping form. It actually took more strength than he thought he had left in him to cross slowly to him, clearing off the night stand with one hand - the tray precariously balanced in the other - before he set it down. Clearing his throat, he reached out to shake the man awake but stopped before their skin could connect. Instead he nudged the mattress with his knee until his brother shifted and groaned.

"There's Advil and juice and food on the nightstand," he said softly then turned to walk to his duffel bag. After his shower he had dressed in the same clothes as the night before and he could smell the stench of alcohol rising from him. With his back to Sam he dressed quickly before walking around and gathering things to stuff into the duffel.

Sam felt like something had died in his mouth. He had to clear his throat a few times before he could speak, "you leavin'?" As he looked over at the night stand he was surprised to see an omelet. "Room service? I didn't hear 'em." He dropped his head back down on the pillow.

"Not leavin' until you're ready to go," Dean said softly, crossing to the notebook. He stared at it for a moment before picking it up and dropping it onto the bed. "And no. I cooked it."

"Gimme the book." Sam leaned up and picked up the juice, taking a sip and then deciding the Advil was probably a very good idea. He shook a couple into his hand and tossed them in his mouth then washed them down with another swig of juice.

Silently Dean curled his fingers around it once more and stepped toward Sam, holding it out.

Sam took the book and flipped it open to his list at the back, tore it out and crumpled it up into a ball. He tossed it on the bedside table and held the book out to Dean again. "One list is enough," he said and sat up.

Swallowing hard, Dean took the notebook back, staring down at it with blank eyes. After another moment's consideration he tossed it in the trash can by the nightstand. "I think I'm done with lists." He shook his head, heading back to the duffel bag to pull out a pair of socks and drop on the edge of the bed.

"Don't be stupid - there's _some_ good stuff on there." Sam reached out for the plate and took a bite of his omelet. "Thanks for cooking." Sam, unfortunately, remembered everything from the night before. He'd always been a little envious of people who could go out and get hammered then do whatever they wanted without worrying about feeling guilty about it the next morning. He took another bite of omelet and chewed while he thought over what to try and say that was going to make things a bit better. "Listen, about last night, I was drunk - I'm sorry. I didn't mean some of the things I said. I think we... well, I don't know - but you should keep your list. We'll just - can we take the stuff off about me? You... you kinda freaked me out last night. I didn't," Sam put his fork down on his plate, "I never expected you to act like that, drunk or not, you've never... done anything like that to me. So - let's just forget this _stuff_." He gestured between him and his brother - not wanting to say it out loud.

"I don't want the list," Dean shook his head. "I don't want it. Any of it. Any of this. So it's forgotten. The last twenty four hours wiped clean. When you're ready to go we'll go, find a hunt. Get on with our lives until there's no more." He slipped into his boots. Reaching back to grab his duffel bag he accidentally knocked it, sending it falling and the stack of his copy of Grand Canyon pictures scattering across the floor. After a long minute of staring down at them he knelt and began sliding them together.

"What's all that? Is that from the canyon?" Sam picked up his fork and took another bite of omelet then put the plate back on the bedside table. "Throwing those out too? Might as well have a clean slate seeing as nothing matters anymore." Sam threw back the covers and got out of bed. "I'm gonna shower, we going sightseeing still or is your slate cleaning going to involve us not doing _that_ either?" He laid out a clean pair of jeans, boxers and a t-shirt for after his shower.

Dean sat back heavily on the ground, pulling the pictures up to his chest. He'd managed to hold it back since he'd gone to bed last night and wouldn't it just figure that _now_ would be the moment the tears finally broke the surface and trailed down his cheeks. "Whatever you want Sam," he breathed ducking his head as he stuffed the pictures roughly back into his duffel bag and leaned to grab the few articles of clothing that had fallen out with them.

"Hey, this was your thing," Sam turned to walk to the bathroom and noticed the tears on his brother's face. "Dean? You okay?" In a perfect world, the world before the list Sam would have moved over to comfort his brother, pull him into his arms. Now, the first thing that flashed through his mind was his brother on top of him, jamming his leg into his groin; and so he stayed there.

"No," Dean pulled his duffel bag to his side and tucked his legs up against his chest, laying his head on them. "Just go shower. We'll go when you get back." He wished it really was so easy to make the last twenty four hours a blank slate, because Sam _never_ knowing would definitely feel much better than this. Hell, anything would feel better than this at this point.

Sam went to shower because he didn't know what else to do. He'd never, in all his life been hesitant about going to his brother, wanting to comfort him - and now it was like there was this huge wall between them. He spent as much time as he could in the bathroom and then wrapped the towel around his hips and walked back out into the bedroom. He stopped halfway across the room when he saw his brother, still sitting the same way. "Dean? Aren't you getting tired of sitting there?" Sam walked over to his bed and pulled his t-shirt on then stepped back a little and pulled the towel off so he could pull on his boxers and then his jeans. He sat on the end of his bed. "Hey... what do you need from me?" His voice was quiet.

"Nothing," Dean said softly, extending his legs slowly and flinched as the cramped muscles stretch. It was a complete and absolute lie. He needed _everything_ from his brother. But he couldn't ask for any of it. Couldn't even let himself entertain the ideas of thoughts any longer. Dean needed to shut that part of him off. "Do you want to do a quick online search for potential hunts first or just get on the road?" He asked, forcing himself to turn to his duffel bag and zip it up.

"Okay," Sam didn't have the energy to drag anything out of Dean, "let's just drive." At least they were used to that and hopefully Sam could find them something to do. Sam leaned over and grabbed himself a pair of socks from his own duffel and pulled them on. "Go ahead, I'm gonna be a little while." He looked over at Dean, "I'll meet you in the car - you check us out."

Pulling his duffel bag up and over his shoulder, Dean nodded, "Alright." He stopped in the kitchen to grab a bottle of water before heading out the door.

Sam threw his duffel bag into the trunk and pulled the passenger door open, sliding in and shifting around to get comfortable. "Where we headed?"

"East," Dean shrugged, starting up the car and pulling them out onto the overly packed Vegas strip. For a moment he felt a twinge of regret that he'd never get to explore the place but it was too chalked full of bad memories now. Some good - some _great_ \- but all laced with that undercurrent of wrong. "Pick a state," he mumbled a little while later when they'd finally made it back to the highway.

"Colorado." Sam pulled the notebook out of his jacket and threw it on the dashboard. "They have horse ranches there - you can ride."

Staring at the notebook for a moment, Dean shook his head slowly. Leave it to Sam to just keep pushing the buttons he wanted to disappear. His fingers uncurled from the steering wheel and he reached forward to grab the notebook and toss it in back. Out of sight, out of mind of the moment. Settling back in his seat he turned on the radio and fixed his gaze straight ahead.

Huffing out a breath, Sam shifted closer to Dean and grabbed his brother's hand threading their fingers together and resting their hands on his thigh. He stared straight ahead out the window, "Colorado," he said quietly.

"Sam..." Dean's voice was low, and he tried to tug his hand back. He didn't even deserve to touch his brother after what he did the night before. Not in any way. "Fine. Colorado. But you don't... this was going to be one of the things I took off the list." He said, eyes darting back and forth from Sam to the road.

Sam tightened his grip on his brother's hand, "it's on my list, remember? _Hold Dean's hand_. You don't wanna keep your list, don't. Maybe I put horseback riding on my list." He looked out the window and put his other hand over Dean's. "I'm sorry," he whispered, "forgive me?"

Dean's hand tightened in Sam's. "What am I forgiving you for?"

Sam's thumb moved over his brother's wrist. "Oh I don't know, being an idiot, drinking too much, saying things I didn't mean." He shifted on the seat so he could look at his brother's profile. "It was my fault... what happened, and I didn't mean what I said about... everything. And you're not like Dad, you never were. That's why I loved you so much." Sam's pulse was racing. This was all he had - if Dean didn't forgive him then he was pretty much out of ideas.

Dragging his tongue across his lips, Dean nodded. "I forgive you." He glanced over at Sam. "Do you forgive me? For... what I did. I should... I can't believe I... you know I never would..." he sighed, cutting himself off and shaking his head. "I'm sorry."

"I know, it's forgotten. Can we start over?" Sam's heart was gonna blow right through his chest wall.

With a slight frown Dean slid his eyes over to Sam's profile for a moment before returning to the road. "What are we starting over with?" His shoulders were beginning to feel just the slightest relief from the tension and he could feel that knot in his stomach loosening.

"I dunno, let's do the list... and if you don't wanna do yours then we'll do my list." He tried a smile and peered at Dean out of the corner of his eye. Letting go of his brother's hand, Sam shifted his butt across the seat and lay down. He took a deep breath, wondering if Dean was going to shove him a way, then slid forward until he could rest his head on his brother's thigh. When Dean didn't shove him off, Sam tucked his hand under his cheek and got comfortable, closing his eyes and smiling.

After a few moments Dean laid his hand on Sam's shoulder, allowing a small smile to tug up the corners of his lips. "Well then. I guess we're going skiing too while we're in Colorado."


	5. Chapter 5

Since the trip to Vegas depleted a good majority of their funds they'd stored up, Dean insisted on another week of hitting up small town bars before the skiing expedition. After all, when Sam researched the stuff, it seemed pretty expensive to rent equipment, pay for lessons, and a lift pass. Plus he didn't want to stay in some cheap motel. As it turned out, Vail didn't really have cheap motels. What they did find was a condo rented out for week time slots with a recent cancellation. The place was gorgeous - even if it cost a fortune - and came fully stocked with food that you didn't have to pay for. Skiing, as it turned out, was a lot harder then Dean thought it would be. He spent more of the day falling on his ass more than anything else but Sam did just about as well so they both got a good laugh out if it. And by the time their first day was done Dean decided that was enough of that venture and crossed it off the list. They could find other ways to pass the time in Vail that didn't involve the slopes and at least he could say he tried.

It was easy to find a place to go horseback riding, what wasn't so easy was finding some warm clothes to wear or convincing Dean to wear a cowboy hat. Dean's argument was that they would look like idiots when they got bucked off because they didn't know how to ride. Sam's argument was that the horses would feel more relaxed in their company if they were wearing cowboy hats. Either way, they turned up to ride wearing cowboy hats, and Sam took lots of pictures with, yet another, disposable camera. It wasn't as hard as they thought to learn how to ride; it was pretty easy actually. The trail horses were used to dealing with people who had _no_ idea what they were doing. Sam's biggest complaint after the first half hour of the ride was that his nuts were completely numb. He used the same excuse ten minutes later to get Dean off the horse and shove him straight backwards into the snow. With an exclamation of "Snow Angel! Now!" Sam dove into the snow head first and flailed around making what was quite possibly the worst snow angel in history. Dean's competitive spirit came out in full force and he made a snow angel that was almost perfect; he even quite acrobatically managed to get up off the ground without leaving any footprints. Sam spent a little while trying to build a snowman using Dean as a model but when it started to get a bit X-rated Dean gave it a good kung-fu kick to the midsection. Sam couldn't remember laughing so hard for a long time, and the smile on Dean's face was well worth the pins and needles in his nuts.

Their third day in Vail Dean ate chocolate the entire day. And... it wasn't nearly as fun as he thought it was going to be. In fact by the end of the day he had such a bad headache he caved and ate a cheeseburger just to get some protein. They did have chocolate cake though, which successfully took care of a thing on Sam's list and made Dean grin happily through each bite. During the day they had gone out to explore the city. Most of the shops were the clichéd; touristy type with ridiculous artsy things Dean could never imagine buying. Sam did find a book on origami though, and Dean could only beam at him as he bought it and they headed back to the condo to spend the afternoon trying to figure out how to fold paper into something that looked like a creature. Sam was better at it than him but mostly because Dean lacked the patience to get the lines folded just right and complete each little step. In the end he had would could be considered a crane, if you tilted your head and squinted just right. Sam had a whole little stack of crane's varying in different sizes and a ridiculously smug grin that Dean got rid of by sending the crane's to take a bath in the sink. Feeling a little guilty at Sam's pout, Dean spent two hours over the book and finally managed to make what looked pretty similar to a flower and he gave it Sam with an apologetic smile and a promise to never again kill his paper animals. So even though the chocolate experience wasn't the best idea ever, Dean was more happy than he could remember being ever and it was good to feel the ease growing between them, even to the point where he didn't automatically check Sam's reaction if they happened to brush up against each other.

It was pretty tricky to find a sushi restaurant but when they did Dean took little encouragement to pull over and head inside. Sam figured it might be the last of the detoxification from the _day of all things chocolate_. The strangest thing that Sam had ever seen in his entire life (and _that_ was saying something) was Dean _thoroughly_ enjoying sushi: sashimi, maki, rolls, and even what appeared to be just plain slabs of raw fish. Sam had nearly choked he was laughing so hard watching Dean struggle to get the very first piece into his mouth. His face moved from terrified to surprised quickly and from that point on was willing to try pretty much anything. Sam spent a lot of the meal just watching his brother's face. He'd never realized before how expressive Dean's face was; probably because Dean spent a lot of time scowling. The smiles came more often now, lasted longer and Sam was halfway through his own California roll when he realized he could cross another item off his own list.

When it turned out the sushi didn't make him puke at all - and he thought he might actually like to have it again sometime - Dean was in a pretty fantastic mood. So they stopped by a local film store and cleared out a shelf of B horror movies. Dean stuck to mostly the monster classics, stating they could only watch girls go run and scream so many times before he wanted to blow his brains out. They picked up some popcorn and a giant bag of starbursts when Dean insisted he couldn't have chocolate for at _least_ a week, if not more.

Everything over the almost two weeks since they left Vegas was so _good_ Dean had pretty much erased those mistakes made then from his memory. Internally he made some lame joke about it really being sin city and that was really all he allowed himself to think on the issue. Well except for the kiss. But even then he tried not to dwell too much. As they stepped back into the condo with their movies, Dean stretched his arms high above his head and headed for the kitchen. "I'm making coffee. Cause there will be no falling asleep in the middle of the night. It has to be an _all_ night thing."

"Dude, I can nap during some of the bad bits." Sam trailed along behind Dean mostly because he needed to stretch out his legs. He almost bumped into Dean's back when his brother stopped at the fridge. "I'm hungry," he mumbled. Things were better. Sam didn't worry so much anymore about the crappy evening in Vegas anymore; in fact, he'd pretty much put it behind him. He'd decided it was time to knock some more items off his list and once he got it in his head, he couldn't really think about anything else. He watched Dean make the coffee, trying to help and only succeeding in getting told to get the hell out of the way. All that did was make Sam grin; he'd spent a lot of years getting in Dean's way. "Come and sit - I wanna watch the next movie."

" _Coffee_ ," Dean insisted, pulling out a couple mugs and turning to throw a grin over his shoulder at Sam. Once the pot was successful heading toward brewing he threw the bag of popcorn into the microwave and hit the convenient popcorn button. As soon as the light was going he glanced up at Sam and sighed at his still impatient eyes. "Alright fine but I'm just gonna have to get up again..." he grumbled good naturedly as he headed passed Sam to the living room, dropping down on the couch and pulling up the stack of DVD's. "So what do you think… Jeepers Creepers? I love that little theme song and the dude is hilarious." He glanced over at Sam with a wide grin.

"Perfect. Sit." Sam patted the couch and flopped down, kicking his feet up on the coffee table. After a few moments of fidgeting around trying to get comfortable Sam turned around and grabbed the blanket from the back of the couch and tugged it down so he could throw it over both of them. When Dean looked over at him like he was nuts Sam simply shrugged, "to hide behind," he muttered. Shifting a little closer, Sam could feel the warmth of Dean's leg, "you comfy?"

Dean opened his mouth to respond but the microwave went off and he jumped up. "Popcorn!" He headed for the kitchen, calling over his shoulder. "Hey do you want a cup of coffee too? Or should I just leave the pot on for you for later?" Dean pulled the popcorn from the microwave, tossing it to the side.

Sam groaned, "Well, ya might as well bring me a coffee." None of this was working out quite like he had planned. He flipped the blanket back so that it was ready for Dean when he came back. "Hurry up! I haven't got all night!"

"Got a hot date or something?" Dean called back, snorting as he fixed up two cups of coffee, pouring cream in his and sugar and cream into Sam's. He bit down on the bag of popcorn; carrying it in his teeth and heading with the two mugs back out to the living room. "Thanks for your help princess," Dean teased as he set the mugs down and let the bag drop onto the table. "You could have at least put the DVD in." Popping open the case he did just that before rounding back to the couch and dropping down beside Sam, reaching out for the remote and handing it to his brother as he took a long sip from the coffee. A minute later he was once more reclining on the couch, pulling open the bag of popcorn and setting it in the space between them on the couch. "Okay get it rolling."

Sam snagged the bag of popcorn and put it on the coffee table beside him. "We can, uh, have that later." Sam shifted closer, closing the space between them. He pushed play on the menu and got the movie started. He'd forgotten how creepy the beginning was and got distracted from his plan for a few minutes. "So, Dean..." he swallowed and licked his lips.

"Hmm?" Dean hummed, eyes fixed on the screen for a moment before he glanced over at his brother. He blinked in the glow from the TV, a little surprised at how close he was. He could feel the heat of the man's leg beside him but hadn't really connected the two together, the heat and the closeness. "Uh... what?" He asked, glancing back at the screen when the blare of a horn sounded.

Sam pressed his thumb and forefinger into his eyes for a few moments and sighed. He shifted sideways on the couch so he was facing Dean, "Dean?" There was some kind of crazy tingling shooting down his spine and he shivered a little.

Sensing that something pretty big was about to happen, Dean shifted as well so he was facing Sam, watching him curiously. "Yeah Sam?" He asked softly, heart beating a little heavier in his chest with anticipation for whatever was going to happen next.

Sam lifted his hand and curved his hand around his brother's neck, rubbing his thumb slowly across Dean's cheek. "I .. wanted to ..." Sam's lips parted in a small puff of air and he closed the distance between their lips with only the tiniest movement. He moved his lips back and forth across Dean's; they were soft like he remembered. As he shifted a little closer his hand tightened on Dean's neck and he ran his tongue along the seam of his brother's lips. Sam's free hand slid up to settle on Dean's chest, fingers curling hard into the material of his shirt as his tongue pushed gently against Dean's lips.

Head tilting to the side for the best angle, Dean opened his lips easily under Sam's. It was a lot different from their last kiss mostly because Dean didn't feel any of the bitterness that had led up to it. Sam's lips were warm and tingling under his and Dean couldn't resist the soft moan into his brother's mouth as their tongues tentatively met and slid together. His hand shifted around to wrap into Sam's hair and tried to change positions slightly on the couch to get a better angle. Dean's free hand hesitated for a moment before coming to rest just above Sam's knee, squeezing as Dean sucked his brother's tongue into his mouth before pushing it out with his own.

It surprised Sam, the way his body responded. Dean's mouth was hot, wet, silky-soft and Sam's tongue moved against his brother's, sliding and tangling together. Without even meaning to, Sam pulled Dean closer, tugging hard on his shirt and crashing their mouths together. Sucking Dean's bottom lip into his mouth, Sam moaned softly and then pulled back slowly until their lips pulled apart. As he sat back a little, Sam's hand flattened against Dean's chest. He smoothed the material of his brother's shirt down, squeezed Dean's neck once more and pulled his hands back to settle in his lap again.

Dean's heart was thundering in his chest and he felt momentarily rooted to the spot, still slightly turned toward Sam, mouth barely opening and glistening. Somehow he kick started his brain enough into gear to get him to shift so he was facing forward again and he dragged his tongue across his lips, pulling in the taste of Sam. Dean shifted slightly on the couch cushion, trying to get comfortable around the sudden tight heat in his lower regions. The chick on the screen was screaming but Dean couldn't grasp much outside of what had just happened and his mind seemed to be providing an instant loop replay of the kiss.

Sam's lips twitched into a slight smile and he reached over to tug the notebook up from the side of the couch where he had stuffed it earlier. He flipped to the back of the book where his wrinkled list had been taped back in and crossed off, _kiss Dean_. He tucked the notebook back down the side of the couch and kicked his feet back up on the coffee table at the same time as he curled his hand over his brother's thigh.

With a small smile Dean shifted against Sam's body, leaning slightly into him. After another moment of hesitation he raised his arm, deciding to make it funny in case Sam shrugged him off and pretended to stretch and yawn before dropping his arm around Sam's shoulder. His lips twitched into a smirk, eyes staying fixed on the screen.

Chucking softly Sam rolled on to his side and settled against his brother's side, arm snaking over Dean's waist. "Now... if I nap during the boring parts you'll never know," he said as he pressed his cheek against his brother's chest. His body was tingling pleasantly; warm, comfortable and as crazy-unusual it was for them to be sitting the way they were, it felt good. Sam's smile grew and he tucked his fingers under the hem of Dean's shirt, running the pads of his fingers over the warm flesh underneath.

Dean was instantly area of the touch much lower then he thought it should be. Not that he minded _at all_. "Oh... I'll know," Dean insisted softly, hand dropping to stroke through Sam's hair. "I'm master of these things. If you fall asleep I'll think up unpleasant ways to wake you back up that may or may not involve snow." He chuckled softly and his voice sounded deep even to him.

Sam was pretty certain he wouldn't fall asleep. His heart was pounding, slow and steady -but stronger than usual. It felt like Sam's blood was pulsing thick through his veins. Sliding his hand further under Dean's shirt, fingers splayed Sam explored the curves and lines of his brother body. His eyes drifted closed and his breath caught in his chest. He was really going to enjoy this movie watching business.

Reclining further back on the couch, Dean swallowed thickly and tried to readjust himself without making it too obvious. Though he was fairly certain by this point that Sam was fully aware of how Dean was affected by the things he was doing. After all, the couple of noises that had just left his mouth had been very distinctly like soft moans. "Sammy..." he breathed his brother's name and it also sounded like a moan, more soft and breathy then any word he's ever said. But Sam's hand was like fire against his bare chest and he couldn't really be blamed for feeling so utterly thrown in the best way possible.

Swallowing, his throat suddenly feeling dry and tight, Sam's hand stilled. "Is... is this okay?" He sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, biting down hard on it while he waited for Dean to answer.

"Y-yes," Dean nodded. He probably could have said something like _hell fuckin' yes don't stop touching me ever_ but he didn't see that going over so well. His fingers continued to slide through Sam's hair for a moment before he let them come to rest on his brother's shoulder. Dean wanted to touch him to, but he knew that Sam building up to whatever was more important. And - god willing - they'd get to that other stuff someday. Sooner rather than later hopefully.

A shiver skittered through Sam's body and he took in a shuddering breath. The scent of his brother was all around him and the heat of Dean's hand was burning into his shoulder. _Crazy_ , the word kept shooting through his mind but it just didn't matter anymore. Time was running out. Sam felt every day dripping away from him, minute by minute. He shoved Dean's shirt up a little higher, settling his cheek against the hot flesh of his brother’s chest. Wetting his lips Sam tucked his free hand under Dean, feeling his brother's back arch to give him room. Lulled by the steady rise and fall of Dean's chest, Sam closed his eyes again and turned his face into Dean's body, brushing his lips gently across his brother's skin.

" _Jesus_ ," Dean inhaled sharply. They were such simple touches and if it had been anyone else they would have felt good but _nothing_ compared to the way Sam's lips against his flesh flared a spiraling heat through him. His moan was low and rich, crawling up his chest as he arched once more forward into Sam's touching. His hands curled around the hem of his shirt and he pulled in a deep breath. "Should I... take this off? Or leave it on?" Dean hands were shaking a little and he was practically constantly shifting his hips underneath the pleasure.

Sam shifted slowly, slipping down and twisting so he was on his back with his head resting on Dean's lap. He stared up at his brother; Dean's face was flushed; his lips partly slightly, wet and shining in the light from the TV. "You... can take it off if you want."

Locking eyes with his brother, Dean pushed up a little, just enough to free his back and drag his shirt up and over his head, tossing it to the side. "Okay," he breathed, settling back onto the couch. His eyes dragged down the length of Sam's body, hand hovering in the air for a moment before tucking along the side of Sam's neck, fingers slipping just under the collar and rubbing softly. He ran his tongue over his lips, smiling softly down at his brother.

Closing his eyes for a few moments Sam found it easy to turn into his brother's touch; just like it was the most natural thing in the world. "You're not watching your movie." There was a smile on Sam's face and he opened his eyes to find Dean's green eyes on him. Reaching up, Sam noticed his hand was shaking; glancing back up at his brother he shrugged slightly, a shy smile on his face. "Nervous," he murmured and swallowed as his hand settled against Dean's chest. Sam watched his fingers as they moved softly across Dean's broad chest; his brother was harder than he remembered when they were younger, well-toned muscles from hunting. So many scars. Brows furrowing slightly Sam traced the pads of his fingers along the scars on his brother's chest: claw marks from Idaho, knife wound in Kansas, a crooked line of healed flesh from a branch that tore through his brother's flesh in Montana. Sam's expression softened.

There was something sentimental about Sam's touches, which only heightened the sensations. His thumb slipped along the line of Sam's collarbone. "S'okay, to be nervous," he said softly, taking deep, steady breaths to refrain from rushing things. "I'm a little nervous too." He smiled softly, lifting his free hand to slide the pad of his thumb along Sam's lower lip. He had sort of forgotten that there was even a movie on which was alright with him. If they had to redo horror movie night some time that would be okay, this was well worth it.

Sam dragged his lips across the pad of Dean's thumb then kissed the rough flesh, lashes fluttering closed. His hand flattened against Dean's chest, mapping out the peaks and valleys of his body. Even with his eyes closed he knew his brother's body, they'd patched each other up for so many years. But touching, Dean, _like this_ \- was different. Sam turned his face toward his brother's body again, smiling when the tip of his nose brushed over Dean's belly button. Wetting his lips Sam leaned closer and ghosted his lips over his brother's abs inhaling deeply.

Hand once more slipping through Sam's hair, Dean's eyes fluttered slightly as he bit down on his lip. Feeling Sam's lips so low on his stomach, head practically inches from that heat pressing against his crotch. His hips shifted up slightly before he forced himself to slide back. Peeling his eyes open, Dean watched for any changes on his brother's features as his hand slid down to the hem of Sam's shirt, fingers slipping under to run along the burning silky flesh. When Sam didn't stop him, Dean pushed forward more until he could lay his hand flat against Sam's chest, curving around hard muscles.

Arching up slightly, Sam blew out a breath against Dean's skin as a slight shiver ran down his body. Lips open and wet, Sam left a trail of kisses across Dean's belly as his fingers curled over the waistband of his brother's jeans. He sucked the warm skin gently, and then licked at the same spot moving across the expanse of flesh slowly. Lapping, sucking, kissing, he moved gently - the backs of his fingers grazing hidden flesh.

Dean's next inhale was shaky and he let the air fall from his lips slowly, eyes fixated to the spot Sam's lips were moving against his flesh. "Sam..." he moaned softly and pressed his fingers a little firmer against Sam's chest, searching along the skin until his thumb grazed along his brother's nipple. He rolled the sensitive flesh beneath the pad of his slightly calloused skin. Dean could feel his heart slamming heavily in his chest, could hear his blood rushing in his ears. Everything was so surreal, Dean had to continually remind himself this was actually happening and wasn't just his over active imagination.

Sam's breath stuttered in his chest and he squeezed his eyes shut. This was Dean, lips, hands; soft touches; his brother and Sam's heartbeat steadily thudded away in his chest. He was touching his brother, trailing kisses across his skin and the world wasn't ending, the sky wasn't falling. _Show Dean what tenderness is._ Smiling, Sam's lashes fluttered open and he dropped his hand to his own shirt unbuttoning each button slowly, eyes blinking up at his brother's jade green gaze. Letting his shirt fall open Sam pushed up off his brother's lap then stood. "Y'okay?" He stood there, eyes soaking up his brother's body; the soft flush on his skin, the slight movements of Dean's hips, the fluttering muscles under his tanned flesh.

Swallowing a few times to clear his throat, Dean nodded and let his eyes drag up the long line of Sam's body. He eyed his brother's chest, seeing it as if he'd never seen it before. All muscles and curves, showing Dean just how much his little brother had grown in the years. "Going somewhere?" He asked softly, hand fluttering along his thigh as he shifted on the couch and stared up at the man.

Sam stepped forward and kneeled beside Dean's thigh, straddled his brother's lap and sliding down Dean's thighs until their bodies were flush. Shrugging his shirt off Sam let it fall behind him and sat back a little, head tilted to the side. "Am I too heavy?" His voice was thick, syrupy and he sucked his bottom lip into his mouth.

"God no," Dean shook his head, heart racing faster then he thought humanly possible. Sam was _straddling_ him. Wetting his lips with a rapid swipe of his tongue, Dean reached out and rested his hands along Sam's chest, sliding up to curve over his shoulders. Biting down hard on his tongue to stop himself from moaning just from _touching_ his brother, Dean forced his eyes up from the sun kissed skin into lust blown hazel eyes. A slow smile lifted his lips as his hand cupped the back of Sam's neck, bringing him in until their lips were inches apart. "Kiss," he breathed, grinning.

Shaking his head slowly Sam smiled. Leaning in to Dean he slid his cheek against his brother's, breathing out gently across his ear and inhaling his brother's scent. "You smell good," he murmured, hands settling on his brother's hips. He shifted, trying to relieve the tightness across the front of his jeans. Leaning back his lips brushed over Dean's and he dipped his head down to nuzzle against his brother's neck. Being so close to Dean, after all these years should have felt unusual but it didn't. It was one of the best things Sam had felt in years, his body was alive with sensation, touch, tingling flesh and _want_. His tongue darted out and lapped at the salty sweat on Dean's neck then he crushed his body against his brother's and sucked long and hard on the flesh. He wanted to mark his brother, make sure - no matter what - he could look at his brother later and know that this was real. The blood pulling up close to the skin was warm against Sam's tongue. Smiling, Sam let the flesh go - eyes darting down to the bruising mark. Another long stroke of his wet tongue and Sam was sucking Dean's ear lobe into his mouth, flicking the sensitive flesh with the tip of his tongue; hands curling into the hard flesh of his brother's hips.

Dean panted heavily under the touches Sam bestowed on him, his neck throbbing from the place Sam had sucked on. The hand on Sam's neck slid down to the man's chest, grazing his nipple with a brush of fingers. His hips rolled slightly back into the couch, trying to shift the far too tight stretch of fabric. "God Sam..." he breathed, head falling back into the couch cushion. Sam was driving him crazy and it was the _best_ thing imaginable.

Sam's lips brushed across his brother's ear, "I'm not gonna break Dean, and I'm not going anywhere." Tongue darting in and out of his brother's ear, Sam whispered, "you can move..." he licked the shell of Dean's ear and pulled back enough to slide his lips over Deans. Lips parting with a moan, Sam pressed hard against Dean, his hips rolling forward gently as his tongue pushed into his brother's mouth.

Moaning around Sam's tongue in his mouth, Dean let his hands curve into the hard flesh of his brother's back, digging into the skin. Trying to be reassured by Sam's words, he slid his hand down lower, dipping the tips of his fingers under Sam's jeans. He could feel the elastic of Sam's boxers just beneath his skin and after another moment of hesitation he dipped his fingers beneath the boxers. Dean gasped into the kiss as his fingers danced along heated, silky skin. He sucked Sam's tongue hard, trailing his teeth over the muscle before shoving his tongue roughly against his.

Growling deep inside his chest, Sam's hips snapped forwards and his fingers gripped hard, probably bruising the sensitive muscle of his brother's hips. Tongues moving together, Sam found himself rocking into his brother slowly, gently, painfully aware of the swelling bulge in his brother's jeans. Pulling back, Sam's lips left his brothers and he pressed their foreheads together, panting out hot breaths against his brother's mouth. Sam nipped gently at his brother's bottom lip, _Jesus_ those lips didn't belong on someone as hard as the hunter beneath him. They were sinfully soft, full and somehow, Dean had managed to become the most amazing kisser. Sam couldn't help the grin that spread across his face.

"S'good Sammy," Dean murmured, fingers sliding just a little lower into the back of Sam's jeans. He could feel the curve of the man's ass beneath his fingers and he had to pull in a shaky breath. Of course everything in Dean was shaky at the moment. Every part of him was overwhelmed with Sam. His touch, his taste, the distinct wave of his smell washing over him. His thighs burned from the weight of Sam pressed down into him. Shifting slightly, Dean tucked his head into the curve of his brother's neck, mouthing along the flesh, sucking it in, giving Sam a matching bruise on his muscle. The gentle rocks of his brother's hips sent shock waves of pleasure through him and he moaned against Sam's flesh.

Letting his head fall to the side a little Sam's arms lifted and wrapped around his brother's neck, pulling him closer. The heat that radiated out from Dean's mouth on his neck was dizzying. When Dean's lips fell away from his neck it felt as though his skin was on fire; he rocked against his brother's body, aching, grinding a little too hard against Dean but needing too. Moaning softly Sam settled back on Dean's thighs so he could reach his mouth again, kissing his way along his brother's bottom lip then sucking the full bottom lip into his mouth. Sam bit down, hard, it had to hurt but he was getting too caught up in his brother: the way Dean smelled like his leather and shampoo, the smooth and rough areas of his skin, the burning heat of his hands wheverever they touched Sam's body. Letting his brother's lip drag through his teeth Sam chased it with his tongue, lapping softly, trying to lick away the pain. Running his hands down his brother's arm, Sam's eyes blazed as they found Dean's, over his biceps, down his forearms, _so_ strong. Sam wrapped his long fingers around his brother's arms, sitting back into the grip of Dean's hands on his ass.

Sam had to swallow twice, his throat was sandpaper rough, "can we... move... to the bed...? I don't know what I want to... do but..." he felt the flush of hot blood working its way to the surface of his skin and let himself fall back against his brother's bare chest, "just want more room," he whispered then sucked on the tender flesh below Dean's jaw. There'd be time for thinking later, Sam just wanted to be able to touch more of his brother, feel him in ways he never had before - and _show_ Dean... the words from Sam's list kept flashing through his mind's eye, _show Dean what tenderness is._

Dean slid Sam off his lap, pushing up to stand. Because his brother's body was so close to his, their bodies practically slid together as he stood and Dean had to curl fingers around the man's hips to keep himself steady. Already he could feel the dizzying swirls of passion, but then he thought he might have felt that the very moment their lips touched. "Yes," he answered, a little belatedly since they were already standing. He brushed his lips along Sam's collar bone, stepping him backward and curling an arm around his brother's waist to keep their bodies close. "M'kay with... whatever... you want..." he gasped the words along the skin, working them toward the bedroom.

The moan that fell from Sam's lips made his knees weak and Dean dropped his hands to the man's waistband. They bumped into the wall Sam gasping as Dean stepped full into his body, hips rocking together as Dean curled his fingers into the back of his hair, dragging him down for another heated kiss. As their tongues tangled together they managed to slide along the wall and into the bedroom. Dean felt the button come loose from its hold, jerking his lips back to meet his brother's eyes and ensure it was alright to continue to rid him of his jeans. Seeing only lust filled, glassy eyes, Dean dragged down the zipper and pressed the denim over his hips. "Bed..." he advised as he pushed him back slightly, working at his own button and zippers until his jeans pooled at his ankles and he stepped out of them. He pulled in a shaky breath, eyes sliding down the full length of Sam's body, lingering on his tented boxers before he stepped in and nudged him back the rest of the way to the bed, crawling over him as he shifted back on the mattress. "Okay?" He asked quietly, dipping down to nuzzle the curve of his brother's neck, breath coming in hot puffs along his skin.

"Okay," Sam mumbled against his brother's hair. Sam pushed himself up and gently pushed at Dean's chest until his brother rolled over onto his back. Sam wasn't done learning about his brother yet; he smiled, wriggling closer until his entire body was pressed against Dean's side then propped his head up on his hand and stared down at his brother's face. "Just... lemme...." his hair fell forward across his eyes and for once he was glad. Sam's long fingers fluttered above Dean's cheek for a moment then settled, tracing his brother's cheekbone, rasping over stubble, grazing smooth lips, and then running along his brother's jaw. His fingers walked along Dean's collar bone and then he scratched his blunt nails down his brother's chest and over his nipple; eyes peering out from under his bangs at his brother's face. Dean's face was amazing; ruddy skin, teeth working his bottom lip, his eyes were wide and dark and looked nearly liquid in the dim light.

Dean arched slightly up into Sam's touch, constantly pulling in deep breaths. Even just the slightest touches seemed to shoot straight through his body to his cock. Moaning his brother's name, low and heavy in the back of his throat, Dean reached out to slide his hand through his brother's hair. Dean fixed his eyes on Sam's features, watching him, watching him. It was... bigger than them. Whatever that meant. "Sammy..." he said again slowly, rolling his body up into his brother's touch. He was so turned on he could hardly stand it and he couldn't even imagine what it would be like when Sam actually touched him down _there_.

Sam's tongue darted out to wet his lips and his hand trailed down the center of Dean's chest circling his index finger around his brother's belly button then down to the waist band of his boxers. Lying his head down on the pillow he settled his chin on Dean's shoulder absorbing the feel of their shared warmth. His breath was uneven and warm as he stretched out his neck to run his tongue down the shell of Dean's ear. Slipping just the tips of his fingers under the elastic in the boxers, Sam ran his fingers all the way across Dean's stomach feeling every clench and release of the muscles beneath his touch.

Tilting his head to the side, Dean pushed forward to brush his lips on the closest part of skin he could reach. His hips rolled up, urging Sam forward. "Jesus Sammy... you're gonna... s'good," he pulled in quick puffs of air, tracing his hand through Sam's hair and down his shoulder. His skin felt like it was on fire, burning in the patches Sam touched and rippling out pleasure in waves.

Pulling his knee up, Sam rested his leg across his brother's. Dean had always had muscular thighs; rock hard, Sam could feel the muscles tightening. He rolled his hips forward, rubbing his own swollen shaft against his brother's leg. The friction from the smooth cotton of Sam's boxers was driving him crazy. "Dean..." there were things that Sam wanted to say but he couldn't even pull all the right words together. The feel of Dean moving beside him, the way his brother held back - just enough, the shudder of Dean's body - everything between them pushed the words out of Sam's mind. Sam leaned forward, capturing his brother's mouth with his licking gently until Dean opened up and let him in. Warmth flooded through Sam's body, heart flopping around in his chest and he pulled the waist band of Dean's boxers up and then slid them down over his brother's hard shaft.

Dean gasped, head falling back, as the cool air of the room washed over his overheated sensitive flesh. "Sammy..." It felt like that's the only word he's been able to say and it's definitely the only thing slamming to the forefront of his mind. He wanted to touch Sam _everywhere_ almost as much as he wanted Sam's hand on him. Dean pushed up onto his elbows slightly to catch Sam's lips in another deep kiss lifting his legs and hooking one foot in the fabric to kick it off. His own hands slid down Sam's body, dancing along his waist line. "Can you... off?" He tugged on the fabric of his boxers, throat slightly aching with the raw level of his voice.

 _Off_ , the word skimmed across his brain and Sam's eyes darted to his brother's. He nodded slowly, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth and hooked his thumb in his boxers and slid them down until he could shimmy out of them. Dropping his eyes to Dean's chest, Sam took in a shaky breath. If someone had asked him an hour ago if this was where he expected to be later in the evening he wouldn't have thought so. But, as his eyes traveled back up to his brother's eyes he found himself smiling and leaning in, drawn towards his brother's mouth. When he pressed up against Dean's hip, the heat of his aching cock rubbed against his brother's hip and Sam's mouth fell open in a soft moan; the breath seeped out of him and his spine arched forward in tiny jerks as all his nerve endings seemed to fire at once.

The feel of Sam's hard cock against his skin was all Dean could seem to focus on. His chest was rising and falling so hard it almost hurt. "C'mere," he murmured and wrapped his hands around Sam's arms, tugging him up. Catching Sam slightly by surprise, Dean dragged him over his body so their aching lengths could slide together. " _Fuck_ ," he hissed with pleasure, arching up into his brother's hips to repeat the action. Dean forced his eyes open to meet Sam's, checking almost automatically to ensure this was okay. He wanted to let himself lose control but there was still that underlying tension and he couldn't bring himself to cross the line. Not yet anyway.

Sam was struggling to get his lungs to work; the feel of their hot shafts sliding together was chasing waves of pleasure through Sam's body. He tried to hold himself up off Dean, not wanting to crush him, but his arms were shaking, the muscles giving out and he fell forwards for a few minutes gasping and murmuring soft words and sounds against his brother's cheek. He wasn't making sense, his focus was split in too many different directions; the agonizingly slow rocking of his brother's hips against his, the rasping of Dean's cheek, the rush of his brother's hot breath ruffling Sam's hair. Taking in a deep breath and groaning Sam pushed up on to his hands and knees, swaying slightly over his brother. "Move," he murmured as he nodded his head up wanting Dean to sit up against the headboard. When his brother's hands clawed at the mattress and he pushed himself up to sitting, Sam licked his lips and crawled back up his brother's body to settle once more across his thighs. "I... like it here," he sighed, fingers curling over the headboard behind Dean's head so he could rock forward and rub their lengths together, _hard_.

Dean made some sort of noise that was supposed to be _me too_. But Sam was right _there_ and that made the ability to speak nonexistent. Their flesh slid together, consuming and intense, the best thing he'd ever felt. Dean curled his fingers on Sam's chest, running his nails down the man's flesh and bringing them to rest on his hips to slide him forward. His head fell forward into Sam's neck, biting at the flesh before sucking it hard into his mouth. Working a hand between them, Dean stretched his fingers wide enough to wrap around both their full lengths, squeezing roughly as he dragged up and moaned hard into his brother's neck.

The noises Dean made vibrated against Sam’s neck sending waves of pleasure pulsing through his veins. Sam could feel his cock getting impossibly hard, swelling in his brother’s grasp. Dean's lips moving on the sensitive skin of his neck felt amazing, the bite, his brother's _teeth_ in his flesh, _fuck_ \- Sam's cock jumped and twitched in his brothers hand. Sam's fingers tightened over the edge of the headboard as his other hand thudded down onto Dean's shoulder then slid across his chest curling around his brother's pendent for a few moments. He pulled hard tugging Dean's head up so he could part his brother's lips with his tongue once more; wanting to taste more, feel more.

Having gone so long without being with someone - and _finally_ being with the one person he truly wanted - Dean wasn't too surprised when he lost it at the rough curl of Sam's fingers, the way he thrust his tongue past his lips so eagerly. Dean's jerks grew frantic, switching between squeezes and twists, just as he would have done to himself only a million times better with the heat of Sam against him. Dean groaned into Sam's mouths, hips writhing beneath him as his orgasm pulled up and shot through him, white hot come releasing in liquid fire ropes across his hand, his abs, Sam's abs. His chest rose and fell heavily as he pulled in sharp breaths through his nose, finally wrenching back when the need for oxygen was threatening his sense with overload. "Fuck Sammy," he gasped, panting heavily into the crook of his brother's neck where he fell, hand still moving, opening to release himself and focus fully on getting Sam _there_.

The last of Sam's ability to keep some semblance of control over his body fled when his brother came. The look on Dean's face, blissed out and relaxed, the feel of his brother losing control - everything sent Sam over the edge. His balls pulled up tight against his body as his hips thrust his shaft into Dean's rough hand a few more times. Sam's release pulsed out of his cock as he fell forward, fingers falling off the headboard and grabbing hard onto Dean's shoulder. "Dean..." he moaned softly as his body shuddered and writhed against his brother's hard body. "Dean..." it was barely above a whisper. Sam's body was liquid against his brother's, molding to fit perfectly; his eyes drifted closed and he buried his face in his brother's neck sucking gently on the sweat-slick skin.

Barey finding the energy to lift his arms, Dean let them slide around his brother, holding him close. This had been so much better than he ever could have imagined and a sudden wave of emotion washed over him. With a surprising amount of strength - considered the most intense orgasm ever that had just shot through him - Dean tightened his hold on Sam and slid them both down the bed until he was laying on his side, Sam practically glued to him. He held him tightly, slipping his hands through the shagging mop of brown hair. "God I love you Sam," he whispered softly, body slightly shaking in the wake of _everything_.

Sam managed to muster up enough energy to smile slightly and nuzzle closer to Dean's neck. His heart was still galloping in his chest and he was barely managing to keep his eyes open. He didn't want to think too much about what had just happened, didn't want to ruin it by getting all _Sammy_ about it. His smile grew as he imagined Dean saying something like that to him. He chuckled softly against his brother's neck.

"Do I even want to know what's funny?" Dean asked sleepily, kicking at the blanket until he managed to get it up high enough to pull over them.

"Tell you t'morrow," Sam shifted slightly but didn't let go of his brother. Some things were still the same, Sam had no intention of _ever_ letting go of Dean.

They slept well, no restlessness for Dean and no nightmare for Sam. At about three in the morning Sam woke up _peeled_ himself off his brother and padded quietly to the bathroom. He splashed some water over his face and ran the hot water until it was steaming; he held a washcloth under the steady stream and wrung it out then cleaned himself off. Rinsing the cloth he opened the door quietly and padded back to sit on the side of the bed. Dean's arm was flung out now that Sam had moved so it was easy to tug the sheets down and wipe his brother's belly and chest gently. Sam smiled as he cleaned his brother's skin, marveling at how alike and yet how different their bodies were. Tossing the cloth on the floor beside the bed Sam's eyes darted to the still pristine bed he would have normally slept in. A warm smile on his face he slipped into bed behind his brother, nudging him gently until he rolled over and Sam could curve his body against Dean's warm back.

When Dean woke it was the first time in years he didn't instantly want to _kill_ whatever had made him peel his eyes open before he got his morning coffee. Maybe that was because the clock said it was after eleven, or because he'd slept more peacefully then he thought possible, but it probably mostly revolved around the fact that Sam was holding him close and the night before they'd shared... A bright grin spread across his lips and he rubbed at his still sleep ridden eyes before shifting their bodies so he could look at Sam. As it turned out, his brother was already awake, blinking slowly as if pulling from the last of his dreams. Hesitating for just one moment, Dean made up his mind silently and leaned in to brush a soft, closed mouth kiss to Sam's lips. "Mornin'," he said, voice gruff from sleep.

"Hi," Sam mumbled and yawned, "you sleep okay?" It was only _slightly_ strange waking up with his arms wrapped around his brother but if there were any doubts remaining in Sam's mind they fled the moment Dean smiled. He hadn't seen that smile as often as he'd like but lately, it seemed to be appearing more and more often.

"Slept fantastic," Dean returned and shifted so he could stretch his body out, moaning softly at the pull and release of his muscles. "What about you?" He turned his head once more, smirking slightly at Sam's bed ruffled hair that seemed to be sticking up everywhere. Unable to rest, he reached out and tried - failed - to smooth it down.

Smacking Dean's hand away gently, Sam groaned as he rolled away from his brother and dangled precariously over the edge of the bed for a few moments rustling around in the duffel. When he flopped back down on the bed he handed Dean the book and the pen, "cross somethin' off my list for me."

Dean arched a curious eyebrow as he flipped open the notebook, sliding up along the sheets until he was sitting up and flipped to the back of the book. His eyes scanned down the list, wondering which one he was crossing off before looking up. "Okay. Which one?"

Sam shifted until he could sling an arm around his brother's waist and ducked under Dean's arm so he could lean on him. He waited a few moments and pointed to _show Dean what tenderness is_ and looked up at his brother. Waiting until Dean had drawn the line through it he peered back down at the book and pointed to _Love Dean more_ then slid his arm back over Dean's waist.

Swallowing hard, Dean drew a line through the second thing before letting his hand fall to the paper. The thud of his heart - heavy and fast - revolved around those unspoken words and he turned to face his brother, leaning in to once more brush their lips together. Dean smiled slightly as he pulled back, flipping the notebook closed and setting it to the side. "This doesn't get you out of staying up all night to watch horror movies with me you know."

"Come on, Dude," Sam was trying for an indignant tone in his voice, "last night..." In the end it just didn't seem like something that Sam could make a joke out of. He found himself unconsciously doing the math and then tensing when he realized there was less than six months left. _Less_ than six months. Sam swallowed around the lump in his throat, "Dean," he murmured against his brother's lips knowing that his eyes must reflect the panic he was feeling.

Dean didn't even have to know his brother very well to know where his mind was heading. It was the same place he tried to avoid on most days. "I know Sammy," he breathed, hand slipping around the back of Sam's neck and squeezing softly. "I know..." he wished he could say more, tell him not to worry, but that wouldn't fix anything. Sam would worry regardless. "There's still time," he whispered, thinking for the first time how much he genuinely hoped there was a way out of the deal. Though he knew there wasn't. They could still look though.

Sam pressed his lips to Dean's gently then laid his head against his brother's chest listening to the steady beat of his heart. There'd always been a lot of reasons to find a way out of this deal but now, more than ever Sam felt like he had to do something. Sam grabbed Dean's hand and twined their fingers together, "Dean, I've been thinkin'," Sam's pulse quickened a little, "what if we found a cross roads demon and had something to offer in trade for your soul?"

"I don't know Sam, we could try but... what's going to be worth more than my soul? The thing told me... I mean, it's why it only gave me a year. They're pretty blood thirsty for me. It's gonna have to be one hell of a something to get it to change its mind," Dean sighed softly, squeezing Sam's hand. The last thing that he wanted was to leave Sam, so Dean was willing to try, but he couldn't allow himself to get his hopes up.

"Me..." Sam turned his lips against Dean's chest and kissed the warm skin, "they would take me."

"Not happening Sam," Dean shook his head roughly. "No point in us doing this back and forth thing. I made it so you can live. Now if you can think of something _besides_ you. Then we'll consider it." He swallowed thickly and pulled back a little. "Too heavy a conversation to have before coffee." Dean slid toward the edges of the bed, pushing up and heading for his duffel bag for a fresh pair of boxers.

Sam stayed where he was and tucked his arm under the pillow. "How'm I supposed to stay here... if..." his heart was aching. His whole life there'd be no one he'd ever cared about more, no one else he looked to when he needed help, all the jokes, the laughter, the fighting - even a few of the punches - it had all been with his brother. Sam stared at the wall fingers picking at the edge of the sheet.

With a soft sigh Dean moved back to the bed and gathered Sam in his arms. "We'll just have to look harder. Find a way we can both be alive," he stroked a hand through Sam's hair. "We have time. We'll... we'll do something," he hated seeing how sad Sam was and maybe needed to say the words himself to get him to believe it.

"Okay, 'cause I don't think I can..." Sam's heart was heavy and he _really_ hadn't intended to bring them down. "You makin' me coffee? I'm always miserable in the morning before my coffee." Sam rested his forehead against his brother's for a few moments.

Chuckling softly, Dean brushed a soft kiss to Sam's lips before pushing up. "Yeah, me too. I'll go put some on," he smiled down at Sam for a moment before heading out of the room; mind already churning over the things they might be able to try to put an end to this deal.


	6. Chapter 6

It was raining and Dean couldn't get back to the motel fast enough. He'd been waiting for spring to start up again just so the rain would be warm enough to logically stand out in without freezing and right now, he could really go for the kissing in the rain thing on his list because his eyes generally felt like they were bleeding from their sockets. Too many hours pouring over ancient decaying books about demons that had been completely pointless.

In the four months since their Vail trip, Dean had probably read more ancient books then anyone alive. Except maybe Sam, who was generally spending every moment of their free time pouring over information and trying to find _anything_ that might be of use to putting an end to Dean's deal. Of course Sam didn't let it stop them pursuing their list. They'd spent New Year’s in New York City, which was an absolute mad house but very worth it to kiss at midnight with the ball dropping right in front of them. And Dean had never seen a view quite like the one on top of the Empire state building. Also, skittles in Vodka? A very genius idea that he hadn't minded repeating on more than one occasion.

Things between him and Sam had shifted only in the slightest ways. They still teased each other ruthlessly, still fought over the most unusual things - and more than once over how to end the deal - but now they asked for only one bed in their motel rooms. And most nights they fell asleep kissing after a lot of rubbing and sucking and general orgasmic bliss. In January they had spent some time in Florida, tracking down a man who seemed to have an unusual amount of knowledge regarding cross road demons. He wasn't really any more help than anything they'd already read but Dean had been given a chance to swim in the Atlantic ocean, which was well worth it. And Sam had packed a picnic that they shared on the beach, sitting together so their legs touched and watching the families around them. Before they'd left the state Sam arranged for them to get private scuba diving lessons and that had taken the cake for the entire trip. Seeing what life lived underwater was almost surreal, other worldly, and Dean made a vow that - should they actually manage to stop this deal - they would go to some island somewhere in the Caribbean and do a lot more of the scuba diving thing.

After Florida it was on to Louisiana, New Orleans, where both Sam and Dean learned that Mardi Gras was just as crazy as people said it was. Dean had never seen so many topless women in his life and that was saying something. They spent several nights partying with the locals and it was the first time in a fair few weeks that Sam seemed to let go of their near constant pursuit of the deal breaker in order to have some real fun. At the end of the third night, as they sat on the balcony outside their hotel room watching the sunrise, Dean already knew it was about time to go back to life in the usual pursuit but he would always remember how big Sam's grin was as they danced and moved together with the carefree crowd.

Dean spent the week after Mardi Gras copying everything Sam ate. Down to the very last salad and granola bar. It was actually a lot harder than he thought it was going to be. Sam made up for it though by booking them a room at the Lizzie Borden hotel. And even though he felt like a fucking rabbit constantly gnawing off lettuce and carrots, finding out there really was a ghost of a crazy killer chick in the hotel was completely worth it. The ghost wasn't really harming anyone, actually she seemed to just enjoy scaring people, and - after some convincing - Dean got Sam to accept the idea of leaving the bones be. After all, the owners of the hotel made all their money off the ghost and, yeah, she may have been some sick crazy woman when alive, but now she was basically harmless. And fairly amusing, since it had been years since any ghost could successfully scare him.

The last week of February they went to Canada. It was one of those times that having fake information worked out really well since they both had passports ready. And finding a moose was only as hard as finding a wildlife park. That trip had been pretty worth it too, since Dean had seen the opportunity to point out that Sam's natural habitat - being a Sasquatch and all - was right there with the moose. The eye roll he received was worth the amusement factor and Dean wasted an entire disposable camera in the park, more than half the shots on the few animals they encountered.

Dean decided on getting the professional massage the weekend after their camping expedition. Climbing a mountain and sleeping under the stars was definitely fun, but doing it at the very end of winter - even without snow on the ground - had left them both feeling achey and sore. And the massage definitely worked that out of their systems. Though Dean wouldn't have traded the memory of lying in Sam's arms and star gazing for hours for anything. He'd never felt a moment so privately intimate with nothing sexual connected to it. Had Dean not already been more madly in love with Sam then should be humanly possible, that night would have intensified all those feelings.

Now they were in Ohio and the past two days they'd spent riding every ride in Cedar Point. Sam had stated he never wanted to _see_ another amusement park again by the end of it but Dean knew he actually loved it. Was only a little coastered out temporarily. Dean didn't really blame him, though that had been worth it. They weren't quite sure where they were headed next so they were passing time until they figured it out in full on research mode. Except now it was raining and it was the middle of March so the liquid felt just slightly warm against him. Or at least not frigid freezing like usual.

Sam was buried in a book when he pushed open the motel door and he grinned, clapping his hands together once and chuckling when Sam jumped slightly. "C'mon," he held out a hand, beaming at his brother.

" _Jesus, Dean,_ what? Where are we going?" But he stood up and looked down at his t-shirt, "do I need my jacket?"

"Nah, we'll be back in a minute," he stepped forward and tugged Sam outside, stopping when they stood in the vacant parking lot and looking up, letting the rain splatter along his face for a few moments before looking back at his brother. "It's raining," he said softly, stepping into the familiar body.

Tipping his head back Sam let the rain wash over him for a few moments then let his head fall forward again so his lips rested against his brother's cheek. "Mmmm," his tongue darted out and licked the cool rain off his brother's cheek bone. "You taste good with rain," he smiled and ducked his head down so he could slant his mouth over Dean's, "taste me," he murmured against his brother's full lips.

" _Jesus_ ," Dean moaned, the simple words shooting pleasure straight through his body and making his knees dip. He pressed the rest of the way forward, closing the distance between their lips and sliding his hand under the back of Sam's shirt to lay flat on his skin, bringing them closer together. The other hand moved to its usual place in his hair, tangling there as the strands grew damp with rain water. He took his time running his tongue along the curves of Sam's lips, inside his mouth to trace out now familiar paths inside his mouth. Sam's tongue was like silk against his, tangling and sliding together, and Dean couldn't help moaning into his brother's mouth as their kiss picked up heat and speed.

Sam stumbled a little, his muscles weakening as the kiss built in intensity. Months of kissing and Dean could still reduce Sam to a boneless mess in a few passes of his lips. Somehow, Dean managed to make each kiss feel like the first time they'd kissed and turn Sam into a gigantic sap. He grabbed Dean's jacket and shivered slightly; whether it was from the cool rain or the sensual way that his brother's tongue explored Sam's mouth. Either way - Sam needed Dean closer _now_ and his hands moved over the back of his brother's jacket and cupped the curves of his ass, fingers slipping into Dean's back pockets.

When it was clear that this kiss was going to become more, Dean pulled back slightly, tugging Sam with him inside and closing the door roughly with the kick of his foot. He had Sam up against the hard wood in the next flash, pinning him there as he once more sealed their lips together. His hips rocked almost unconsciously into his brother's body, fingers sliding under the damp cotton of his shirt and pushing up to splay along finely muscled skin.

Sam's knees completely gave out, it happened sometimes, the way Dean manhandled him, threw him around. Sam was a big guy, strong, and Dean was maybe one of the few who could do that. Sam kissed his brother, _hard_ and fast, desperate and needy. It could have been the rain, Dean tasted different; rain dripped off his hair and ran down his face into their mouths. Sam's hands clawed at his brother's jacket shoving it roughly down his arms and waiting while his brother shrugged it off. There was still too much between them and Sam's hands slipped under his brother's t-shirt and yanked it up roughly, "get it off," he mumbled in between kisses.

Dean moaned in answer, breaking the kiss long enough to tug off his shirt and toss it across the room, reaching out and automatically pulling off Sam's as well. He pulled his brother back into him with fingers along his waist band, crashing their lips together as he tugged them back to the bed. Dean didn't think his legs were going to keep him upright much longer and the bed would certainly be a better place to sprawl out than the carpet. "Sam," he moaned as his lips broke from Sam's and he pulled in a deep lung full of air. Dean fumbled with the button on his brother's pants, tugging down the zipper a moment later. "Wanna feel you," he murmured, slipping his hands past the denim to push it down.

Shoving Dean's hands away Sam pushed his jeans and boxers down kicking them off and stumbling forwards to fall onto the bed pulling Dean with him. Licking the rain off his brother's neck, Sam's hands tugged at Dean's belt, then he let out a frustrated growl and bit Dean's neck sucking _hard_ as he latched onto the skin. His hands were everywhere, sliding his brother's zipper down, slipping down the back of his pants and cupping his ass, sliding up through Dean's wet hair.

"Jesus Sammy," Dean groaned and shifted back enough to wiggle out of his pants and boxers, kicking them roughly down onto the floor. A moment later he was sliding back up Sam's body, rocking their hips together and hissing at the brush of their already hard cocks together. He crushed Sam's lips beneath his again, loving the contrast in heat and cool as their skin touched and warmed from the rain. Dean loved when his brother got so needy this way, like the first time he'd gone down on him and Sam had tugged so hard on his hair it stung but _damn_ it had been amazing. A low moan worked through him as their cocks slid together once more.

Sam's hips bucked up off the bed, grinding their bodies together. As his nails dug into Dean's back Sam moaned out a breath still licking and sucking the rain off Dean's feverish skin. Leaving a trail of nips and kisses along Dean's collar bone Sam's hand slid down between them palming his brother's cock and squeezing hard.

Dean gasped and rocked forward into the touch, hands slamming down hard into the mattress on either side of Sam's head. "Fuck Sam, tryin' to kill me?" He moaned, head falling to Sam's neck and panting into the skin. His body already felt like it was on fire, consuming him from the inside.

Dragging in a deep breath Sam dragged his teeth up his brother's neck and whispered, "Just want _you_." His leg slid over Dean's pressing their hips together, increasing the pressure on their cocks. Sam groaned and mouthed his way along Dean's jaw back to his lips, thrusting his tongue into the hot, slick, mouth. His hips twisted trying to get some relief and Sam's palm rubbed slowly up and down his brother's length, his thumb slipping through the pre-come leaking from the head.

"Want you too," Dean moaned, hips almost constantly rocking now in desperate need for _more_. He wanted that, the more, but their skin felt so good sliding together he didn't want to break it, despite how much sucking Sam in his mouth sounded like a good idea. Dean's hand lifted from the mattress, sliding along Sam's side, working between them so he could cup Sam's balls and massage.

Sparks of heat jolted through Sam's body with each movement of Dean's hand. He tightened his grip on Dean's shaft, sliding his fingers up and down then running his thumbnail over the slit as his fingers curled just under the crown. His tongue thrust deeper into Dean's mouth, sliding over his teeth, the roof of his mouth then pulling back to run along his lips. He keened into his brother's kiss, hips circling and twisting as he tried to rub himself against Dean's hard body, "Dean..." he sighed.

Dean's mind felt like it was going to spontaniously combust at any moment and he curved his fingers slightly to rub Sam's balls against his palm. Of course this brought his finger much too close to that secret little area he hadn't even dared to get close to before. Sam was so very... eager right now though so he couldn't resist shifting just enough to lay the tip of his index finger over the puckered flesh. He didn't push in at all, simply glided over the skin, pulling his head up enough to watch Sam's expressions for any signs that it wasn't alright to touch him there.

Sam's hips snapped forwards, " _Jesus_ ," he hissed as the motion of his hand faltered on his brother's cock. Rocking his hips forward then back _slowly_ , Sam pulled back so he could stare into his brother dark eyes. He licked his lips and then ran his tongue along Dean's bottom lip before pulling back to meeting his eyes again. "Want you," he whispered against Dean's mouth, his fingers resuming their movement on his brother's swollen shaft, "Dean."

"Want me..." Dean echoed softly in return. His heart was hammering in his chest and he brought the hand tucked low between them up, lifting his head to stare down into Sam's eyes again. His hips were still shifting into Sam's hand but his attention was focused directly on his brother's features, reading beneath the surface. Swallowing thickly, he brought his finger to Sam's mouth, resting it against his lips. "Make it wet," his voice was so deep he almost couldn't believe it was coming from him and his body shook slightly from the pleasure of it all.

Sam's lips parted with a low moan and he leaned forward slightly to suck Dean's finger into his mouth. Swirling his tongue around the finger, Sam's eyes fluttered closed and his cheeks hollowed. Sam's long fingers curled over his brother's wrist, holding it there as his tongue worked its way around the finger, circling, then sliding along the bottom to pulse flat against it. With his other hand Sam continued to work his brother's cock, letting his fingers slip down to graze over Dean’s swollen balls. When Dean finally pulled his finger back Sam bit down gently, letting his teeth graze along it as it left his mouth. "Good enough?" His voice was thick with lust, gravelly and he was panting.

"Uhhuh," Dean nodded shakily and pushed back from Sam, moving to kneel between his legs. When Sam made a noise of protest he looked up and smirked slightly, "If you keep up with your hand I'm not gonna last very long," he chuckled softly and shifted to position his spit slick finger at the tight ring of muscle. "Try to relax," he said softly, eyes fixing on the puckered flesh as he slowly pushed forward to the first knuckle, groaning softly at the sight of his finger disappearing inside Sam.

At first Sam's hips kept moving, rocking up into the air, his cock twitching against his belly, leaving a glistening trail where it touched his flesh. As Dean's finger pushed further _inside him_ it started to burn, and Sam kept trying to breathe slowly. His arm stretched down so his fingers could slide over Dean's fee hand. Shifting restlessly, his shaft softening slightly he moaned and threw his head back. "Dean..." He wanted this, _needed_ this.

Dean shifted so he could lay spread between Sam's legs, arm slung over Sam's leg. It certainly wasn't the most comfortable but served its purpose to free one hand to be able to curl low around the base of Sam's cock. He squeezed and twisted his wrist as his finger slid the rest of the way in, completely buried in impossibly tight heat. He twisted the digit slightly, watching Sam's face for the tell tale sign of discomfort to fade. When he thought the pleasure seemed to be outweighing anything else, he crooked his finger slightly, stretching the muscle while his thumb slid along the slit of his brother's cock. "God Sammy..." he breathed out in appreciation for the sight.

Sam didn't know which way to move. His hips twitched forward so he could thrust into his brother's fist then he arched his spine to settle back onto Dean's finger. His brother's voice made him shiver and he moaned so loud he turned into the pillow to try and muffle the sound. He could feel the heat rising up his body as he writhed under his brother's touches.

 _Fuck_. There was a pretty good chance Dean was going to come just from the absolute amazing sight that was his brother sprawled out like this. If it wasn't for the prospect of burying himself deep inside Sam, he would have given into the urge rock against the sheets. As it was, he took a moment to regain his sanity by pulling out and back from Sam, leaping off the bed and dropping beside his duffel bag. They had bought a bottle of lube for getting each other off when needed and Dean was immensely glad about that because using hand lotion just seemed so... tacky. In the next beat he was back between Sam's legs, kneeling now as he popped open the bottle top and generously squeezed the liquid over three fingers before setting it aside. As he repositioned now two fingers at the entrance, his eyes lifted to Sam's face, fingers curling around the base of his cock once more. "Okay?" He asked quietly, pressing the very tips of his two fingers along the entrance, smearing the liquid around in small circles.

"Okay?" Sam echoed, " _Jesus_ " he thrust his hips up off the bed, arching his body bow-like off the bed, "y..yes," his voice was barely above a whisper as his body settled back onto the mattress pressing his ass back onto Dean's fingers. "Yes," he hissed out as his hand slid down his body and covered Dean's on his own cock. He let his fingers thread between his brothers, his free hand pulling up a hand full of the sheet.

Dean bit down hard on his lip as he slid his fingers all the way inside Sam, stroking slowly with Sam's hand wrapped around his. He could sit here for the rest of the night, watching Sam's body writhing and thrusting forward, listening to the noises falling from his mouth. But that desire bubbling through his veins was still pressing so he scissored his fingers as soon as it seemed Sam had adjusted to the new feeling. He'd never _done_ this before which only made it that much better. Everything in him already hummed with pleasure and he wasn't even inside his brother yet like he so desperately wanted to be. His fingers searched up until he brushed across something he guessed was the prostate judging from the way Sam nearly flew off the bed at the touch. Dean smirked slightly as he rubbed that sensitive area and repositioned his fingers to slowly add a third to the mix.

" _Fuck_ ," Sam's body twisted and rocked and Dean was barely touching him. Sam wanted his brother's body back next to him, wanted the slick feeling of skin against skin, his brother's hand on his body. But then Dean's finger swept deep inside him past that spot that nearly blew his mind. His body pushed up off the bed and fell back down, his vision fading slightly. Sam sucked in a deep breath, his hands falling to his sides as a flood of pleasure rushed through his system.

Dean was losing patience faster than he would have liked, even as his third finger worked all the way forward and all three stretched and scissored the muscles. He released his hold from Sam's cock, fumbling for the bottle of lube and dumping a fair amount down onto his cock. Sam was constantly moving beneath him and Dean couldn't look away, could hardly blink. "Sammy... I gotta... can I... you ready?" He fumbled over the words as he continued to stretch tight muscles and stroke cool liquid along his flesh.

"'Bout...t..time," Sam's fingers wrapped round his swollen shaft now so hard it ached. His mind was reeling, he's never been so turned on and his cock was so sensitive he didn't know what to do with himself. His hands fluttered from his dick to his hip, to the bed and back but all the time his hips kept up their rocking motion. Sam's other hand curled into a fist at his mouth he moaned into his hand.

Pulling his fingers back, Dean slid forward, sucking in deep lung fulls of air as he tugged on Sam's legs. "Fuck I want you so bad," Dean mumbled, shifting them until he had his brother up enough that the crown of his cock slid into place. "Look at me." He whispered, eyes fixing on Sam's, fingers curling around himself guide forward. Dean was sucked instantly into the tight ring of muscle, gasping at the swell of tight heat clenched around him, consumed him, pulled him in even further with just the slightest rock back. He didn't take his eyes from Sam's until he was buried balls deep in him, hands slapping down hard on the man's legs.

Sam panted, working himself through the burn then gasping at the fullness. His eyes were locked with his brother's, his mouth moving soundlessly as his body adjusted to the new sensations flowing over him. His hands slid over his brother's seeking out the comfort Dean always gave him. As the burn in his ass faded, Sam's eyes darkened, heavy-lidded and he rolled his bottom lip under his teeth as his hips started to move ever-so-slightly.

Dean slid his hands from Sam's legs down to his chest, rubbing along the skin before tucking under his neck. Tugging him up and leaning down, they met half way and he brushed his lips against Sam's. "I love you Sammy," he breathed into the kiss, rocking out just slightly and shifting forward with a small moan.

His body took over again, and Sam's hips started to shift. The feeling of Dean inside him was overpowering, his strained for his brother's mouth sliding his tongue deep into the wet heat. Shifting slightly, Sam clenched his muscles around his brother's swollen shaft and moaned, his breath hitching in his chest. New sensations everywhere, his body was thrumming with pleasure and excitement. Sam's hand snaked around his brother's neck, fingers curling into his hair as his hips tilted up drawing his brother deeper.

With a loud moan Dean rocked his hips down into Sam. Every part of him seemed to be hyper aware of his brother, the touch, tastes, sounds, it was all working to pulling him closer to the edge when all he wanted was to stay like this forever. He brushed kisses to every part of Sam's face, not caring if the action seemed so oddly tender for the moment. He'd never _cared_ before, not with any of those other girls he'd slept with over the years, Sam was the only person he ever wanted. Would be the only person. Dean's breath caught in his throat as slid back and rocked forward and his lips hovered on the edge of Sam's mouth.

Breathing against his brother's mouth Sam was overcome by the tenderness in his brother's eyes. His heart flipped strangely and he kissed his brother's bottom lip softly even as he thrust against him, hips moving in a seductive rhythm. His fingers stroked through Dean's hair as his other hand trailed lightly down his brother's sweat slick back to settle over the gentle curve of his ass. Squeezing he pushed his brother deeper into him, letting his eyelashes flutter closed even as he pressed his mouth hard against Dean's.

Dean had no idea how long they rocked together like that. Each thrust was tantalizingly slow, matched only with the crush and slide of their lips and tongues. They swallowed each other's moans, bodies in a constant forward motion. When the desire finally pushed forward past the point of ignoring, Dean lifted up off his brothers chest, pulling all the way out before slamming all the way back in. His legs shook but he repeated the action, thrusting hard down into Sam's body, angling for just the right spot to drive Sam even crazier like Sam was doing to him with his constantly fluttering muscles clenching around him. He could feel his orgasm edging forward, closer and closer, and he dropped a hand down to curl around Sam's cock, stroking, twisting, squeezing.

Nearly every time Dean slammed into him, Sam felt waves of pleasure shoot out from his groin. Heat was pooling deep inside him and he could feel his orgasm uncoiling, sending out sparks of pleasure through his veins. Sam thrust up into his brother's grip, the rough texture of his palm bringing Sam closer to the edge with each thrust. Hands reaching up, Sam tugged his brother down into a kiss; their lips crashed together and Sam's tongue slipped along both their lips, silky and smooth then slid deep into his brother's mouth as his hips bucked up off the bed. Sam's eyes snapped open, locking onto Dean's, his hips rocked up erratically and he came, lurching forward, almost bending himself in half, his shoulders pushed his body high up off the bed and his cock pulsed out hot and wet across his belly and Dean's hand. Sam's ass clenched tight around Dean's cock, each throb and twitch sending more waves of pleasure through him.

Feeling Sam clench around him, the hot spray of come across his hand, was all it took for Dean to cave to his pressing release. Half a dozen jerky thrusts later and he was emptying his load inside his brother, moaning heavily, head dropping to rest against Sam's. His chest shook with the effort it took to pull in deep breaths and he milked his release, prolonging it with gentle rocking motions until he was too exhausted to do anything besides pulling out and falling to the side. "Shit. That was..." he murmured, lifting a hand to drag across the sweat on his forehead, other hand tugging at Sam to drag him against his body.

"Uh huh..." Sam flopped an arm over his brothers heaving chest. "Dean..." Sam shifted closer, groaning at the effort it took. "You know... I love you... right?" Sam blinked across at his brother's face. He knew he'd never said the words out loud but suddenly it seemed important. Something that Dean needed to hear him say. Sam's cheeks blushed even redder, he could feel it - and again, he found himself wondering how Dean managed to reduce him to a state where he could barely function. He nuzzled into his brother's neck, licking the salty skin and sucking gently.

Smiling softly, Dean's eyes drifted closed and he slid his hand down Sam's back. "Yeah Sammy, I know. Nice to hear it though," he shifted on the bed, getting more comfortable. "Mm sleepy time," he chuckled and pressed a kiss to the still slightly damp top of Sam's head. "Remind me to cross of things later."

"We need to settle somewhere, find a home," Sam grinned, "in a place with _lots_ of yearly rainfall." Sam settled in the crook of his brother's arm and started to slip into sleep almost immediately. Just before he lost his hold on consciousness his fingers threaded through Dean's. "Can't leave me now," he mumbled.

Sam booked Dean's appointment for sky diving lessons without telling him. He didn’t want Dean to have time to get too nervous about it. Sam was nervous enough for both of them and he wanted to just surprise Dean. The morning of the lessons Sam slipped out of bed early, made coffee, showered and then padded back to the bed and slid in behind Dean. "Dean?" he whispered against his brother's ear, "wake up, you're jumping out of a plane today." Dean's expression was priceless; he looked like a kid of Christmas morning and leapt out of bed faster than Sam thought possible.

They were out of the motel in record time and too soon Sam found himself in a plane, _a perfectly good plane_ that he was going to have to jump out of simply because his brother had asked him to. _Crazy_.

It wasn't anything like Sam imagined. To begin with, he had no idea that he would be strapped to an instructor. He _did_ notice that Dean made sure that he was strapped to the _hot_ guy. That wouldn't have been a problem except that Sam couldn't help feeling a spark of jealously and the huff that he let out seemed to amuse Dean to no end. But then it was time to go. One minute they were standing in the plane staring at each other and then next minute they were free falling.

Dean loved it. He couldn't stop talking about how great it felt, how it was just like flying and he would go back up _right_ that minute if they would let him. There would be no more skydiving for Sam. He decided that it was, in fact, a quite reasonable belief that there was no reason to jump out of a perfectly good plane. Sam also continued to dislike the idea of his brother being strapped to another man much to Dean's amusement. Sam decided he really needed to work on hiding his feelings from his brother.

Easily the most difficult item on Dean's list to fulfill was _skinny dipping and showering in a waterfall_. Maybe, if they were able to take a quick side trip to Brazil or Peru it wouldn't have been such a big deal, but that just wasn't in the cards. Finally, after two months of searching Sam managed to find hot springs on privately owned land in British Columbia, Canada. _Lakeview Cabins_ to be exact. The owners had closed up the place for the slow season but Sam (and a fair amount of money he had saved up) had persuaded them to leave a key for them at the general store in the nearest town. Persuading Dean to get in the car, shut up and drive wasn't all that hard anymore. Dean was getting used to Sam's little adventures. After four days of driving, stowing their weapons at Bobby's and three rather seedy Motels the Impala crossed the border into Canada.

The drive through B.C. was good; they even stopped at a Hot Rod Show in some small town in the Interior. Sam smiled and sat on the curb of the blocked off road that was packed with cars, hoods up, detailing sparkling in the late afternoon sun. He watched his brother as he peered at engines and then stood back with his arms folded across his chest and he spoke to other driver's and mechanics.

It was in these moments, when Sam was watching his brother squinting into the sun, laughing with other men and looking for all the world like a _regular_ guy that Sam felt the weight of his brother's upcoming absence. The spike of pain in Sam's chest would throb and he would suddenly be aware of the time ticking away. When his brother nodded over at him and smiled, Sam would smile back even though the ache in his chest was killing him.

It was late when they finally pulled off the main road and Dean drove them down a winding dirt track to the cabins. Everything was closed up and as Sam hopped out to unlock the padlock on the gate Dean started laughing and hollered out the window that he suddenly felt like he was in a bad horror flick. Sam had to remind him that their entire lives had been like a bad horror flick.

In no time at all they had dropped off everything in the cabin, grabbed a couple of towels and were following the hand drawn map the owner had left them. Less than an hour after they unfolded themselves from the car they were standing on the edge of a steaming rock pool nestled in amongst luscious green trees with only the sound of a water fall to keep them company. As beautiful as the place was - Sam's heart was heavy. There were so few items left on the list and somehow - that had kept Sam going - given him a reason to try and hang on to the idea that everything would be okay. Dropping everything he pulled Dean into his arms and buried his face in his brother's jacket, _the smell of comfort, love, Dean_.

Patting Dean's back, Sam forced a smile onto his face and pulled away to shrug off his clothes. They eased into the heat of the spring and even Sam had to smile, it was great. They floated, swam past each other, bodies slick and warm. Dean smiled and something deep in Sam's heart started to crack open slowly and he knew in that moment he couldn't do it, _couldn't be without Dean._

Sam didn't bother trying to hide his sadness from Dean, what was the point? His cries were soundless at first - there wasn't enough air in the world for the amount of pain that was smashing around inside of him. And when he found his voice, drew in that first gasp of air he made no sense. He muttered his brother's name, cried out how unfair it all was, and sobbed. And, Dean held him. The man who was going to Hell was the one who did the comforting. Sam couldn't help but let than be another nail through his heart; he couldn't even be strong for his brother.

It was then, holding the crying form of his brother close with only a few short weeks left, that Dean knew Sam had realized there was no option for a deal breaker. Dean had already come to terms with it and though that didn't make it easier, it did allow him to provide Sam comfort. It certainly wasn't the way Dean had expected their skinny dipping expedition to go but it was okay, Dean was learning to take every moment as he came. Once it seemed Sam had cried himself fresh out of tears, Dean pulled them toward the waterfall. They kissed under the pour of water, Dean's hands sliding along every expanse of his brother's smooth skin.

Afterward Sam retrieved a blanket from the trunk of the car and spread it out along the banks. Dean made love to him under the stars, and even with the rocks digging into them through the blankets it was still the most erotic thing he'd ever experienced. Being together, outdoors and all alone, that made everything worthwhile. He'd never held his brother as tight as he did afterward and they kissed until their lips were practically raw. Then Dean once more dragged him back to the waterfall to shower away dried sweat and come.

The sky was just starting to lighten by the time they headed to the cabin Sam had rented. During the entire night they'd only shared a handful of words and this didn't change as they crawled into bed. Sometimes there were just things that couldn't be said. Dean knew he didn't have words to make things better so he didn't even try. All he could do was tell Sam he loved him before they drifted off to sleep.

A few days later, after many hours spent quietly in each other’s presence, Dean came out of a shower to find his tux spread across the bed. A small smile pulled his lips up and he dressed slowly. Sam wasn't there, just a note with an address, a time, and a request _to look presentable_. Dean didn't need to question what this meant. There were only two things left on his list and Dean was fairly certain only one of them could actually be done. He was ready with an hour to spare and he filled the time by taping pictures into his notebook. The thing was practically full from all the pictures and memories he'd written. Dean didn't have a lot of time away from Sam - not that he wanted any - so he used this time to write a letter he'd been meaning to get around too. Just in case that time came. Or... when it did.

The address Sam had left was the city hall and Dean sat behind the wheel for several long moments, staring at the building. Obviously it wasn't possible to marry your brother, one of the pros of their jobs though, fake IDs and all. Dean couldn't imagine marrying anyone better than Sam, couldn't imagine loving anyone the level that he loved Sam. It was fitting to be together, in this way as all others.

Dean spoke with the lady at the front desk and she directed him down the hall to the appropriate room. Sam was waiting with the judge and a few people clearly meant to be the witnesses. His brother looked amazing, hair slicked back, suit fitted in firm crisp lines across his shoulders. Dean's smile was just as soft and warm as Sam's.

They weren't the type of people who over did things, which meant simply signing the papers and repeating the vows was easy enough for them. Dean had himself a small chuckle when he watched Sam sign his name _Sam Brown_. The man had gone through the effort to get a new ID so he'd be Sam Winchester when they were officially married. And of course they exchanged simple silver rings that Sam had picked up somewhere along the way. Later Dean observed that the inside of each was inscribed with _Amor ad Aeternam_ and just a little research in Sam's Latin book told him that meant love to eternity. Just the thought made Dean's heart ache slightly.

The following week - the honeymoon so to speak - was spent heading back to the US, stopping whenever they felt like it, traveling slowly because there was nowhere else to go. This build up was more consuming than any of the others Dean had experienced in all his years. It was the slow approach of the end, weighing down on him heavily. Their words were so few and far between it wasn't a rare thing for a full day to pass with hardly a word spoken. Mostly Sam lay in his lap as they drove, or curled against his side as they lay on their motel bed. Dean held his hand, or slipped his fingers into his brother's back pocket. And they shared slow, languid kisses, and he rocked forward into tight muscle for hours, Sam writhing beneath him.

Each hour that passed began feeling like a countdown. Over the last week of April Dean could feel himself shutting down. He spent most hours trying to fight off the fear crawling up. Sam's research fever sparked up with renewed passion. He searched book after book, reading words he already read, leaning heavily against Dean's side where his hand ran in constant shifting slides along his skin.

There were moments Dean would catch Sam's eyes, would watch the water pool along the rims, and all he could do was nod and tug him close and hold him tightly. There were other moments where Dean was so terrified he shook. Mostly this happened while they slept and Dean would scream himself awake to find Sam clinging to him tightly, soothing him with soft words and the drag of his hand through his hair, the gentle brush of their lips together.

On the first of May Dean's panic finally gripped tight enough around his heart to have him throwing all their things into their duffel bags, and the bags into the car. Sam only watched silently, and followed him to slip into the front seat. He fell against his side the moment the car shifted into gear and didn't ask any questions as they drove. Dean's foot pressed down into the gas pedal for miles, desperate to get away from the thing that could find him anywhere. There was no escaping it, no matter where they went, no matter what direction they headed.

He didn't stop though, not until the sun was once more setting in the sky and he finally pulled up to a motel in the middle of nowhere. Sam got them a room and Dean slammed him against the door with rough lips the minute the door closed behind him. They _fucked_ because Dean needed it, rough and hard, nails digging into Sam's flesh, hips rocking so hard his bones ached afterward. When they'd both reached their peaks Dean collapsed onto his brother's chest - his _husband's_ chest - and sobbed. He couldn't do this. He couldn't leave Sam and this wonderful, glorious life that they had. He couldn't go to _hell_. Just... couldn't.

And Dean couldn't leave his brother. Couldn't leave his husband. Couldn't leave the man that he loved more than anything else in the world but there was nothing he could do to stop it. Dean pulled off the bed and paced the floor, gasping for breath around the chest aching sobs that wracked his shoulders. And when he fell to the floor and screamed that this wasn't fair Sam joined him, arms sliding around his body tightly. He knew Sam was crying, knew that this was just as hard - worse - for him and he struggled to calm himself enough to stop shaking, to comfort his brother the way that he should.

When his legs were numb from the way they were folded beneath him, Dean finally dragged Sam up onto the bed and held him close. He didn't want to sleep, couldn't spend his last night with Sam fluttered through nightmares, but exhaustion was tugging at him and there was just not enough strength left in him to keep going. So they wasted six hours of his countdown in darkness. And when he woke the sun was up and Dean could _feel_ it.

Sam was already awake and he'd spread a thick line of goofer dust along every crack the hell hounds could possibly cross. It wouldn't last them forever but it bought them some time. Dean couldn't determine whether that comforted him or not. "C'mere," he breathed, one of the five words he'd say that day. He sat on the mattress, sheet pooled in his lap, and he extended a hand out to his husband, his brother, watching him with sad but resigned eyes.

Dean wasn't surprised that Sam had little to say, just as he wasn't surprised by the practically constant stream of tears down his cheeks. There was very little Dean could do but pull him close, lay him down across the mattress and descend over him. This time it had very little to do with fucking, instead Dean conveyed all those thoughts and feelings he would never be able to form into words through the slid of flesh and muscles. Dean kissed away the tears along Sam's cheeks as his hips rocked. There was something resoundingly final about the motions, and as Dean neared that edge his thrusts took on a level of frantic panic.

They lay on the bed twined together in silence until Dean rose and dragged his husband to the shower. He bounced between the way he referred to his brother in his mind, wondering which hurt less. Brother, husband, one in the same. In the end Dean knew the ache was constant regardless of the title given to Sam. He soaped his brother's shoulders with slow massaging circles, savoring the last touches.

Dean dressed. Sliding on his boxers, his jeans. Undershirt, overshirt. His fingers rested along his leather coat for a minute before he turned to Sam. Swallowing, Dean helped his husband into the cool leather. After a moment he slid his amulet over his brother's head. Sam's eyes were red, his lower lip trembled, and Dean leaned forward to slide their lips together. The rings were next, one on his right hand, the wedding ring on his left.

And then he heard them. The dogs barking in the distance, coming closer at a rapid pace. His head shot up and over to Sam, eyes wide and he knew just by the look on Sam's face that his brother knew what he was hearing. Sam stumbled forward and clung to him, gasping words like _no_ and _don't go_. Dean's heart lurched because there was no choice. "Sammy..." he breathed, hands cupping along the sides of his brother's face, the second of the five words he'd say on his last day.

The door rattled and shook the window panes rocked in their frame, Dean's heart raced so fast he wondered if that's how he'd go. Sam's fingers were vices in his shirt, the leather of the jacket brushing along his skin.

And even as the black dust shifted and the line broke, Dean didn't drop his eyes from his brother's face, his husband, his lover. "I love you," Dean whispered the last words he'd ever say just as pain attached itself to his legs.

It was over faster than either could have expected. One moment Dean was there and the next his body was falling forward, heart beat stopped, soul gone, and Sam was alone.


	7. Chapter 7

It wasn't the first few moments after Dean's death that were hard because Sam's mind still clung to his disbelief as though it were some sort of life preserver. As long as there was warmth in Dean's body Sam could still press their lips together and wait... wait for Dean to kiss him back. He closed Dean's eyes with a sweep of his palm because he couldn't bear to see them look so dull, couldn't bear that they didn't look back. His vision blurred as he leaned down and ran his lips across his brother's cheek. There were only silent tears left as his brain started to accept what his heart already knew.

Soon enough, the blood had cooled and gelled around his lover's body and Sam couldn't touch the lips anymore because they were _so_ cold. All Sam could manage to do was pull his brother's body into his arms and bury his face in Dean's hair. He murmured things against his brother's hair, _no_ , _come back_ , for a while Sam even believed that if he simply kept counting Dean would come back to him. _one, two, three, four_ , Sam rocked back and forth and held Dean's body pressed against his chest. He decided that Dean would come back to him by the time he counted to one hundred. Those were his last moments of hope. Those stupid numbers that trickled away so quickly, just like his days with Dean had. By the time he counted to one hundred Dean's body was cold and rigid in his arms. His husband wasn't coming back. His brother was gone. Dean was _gone_.

And so, Sam lifted his brother's body in his arms and stumbled to the bed so he could lay his body there. Tugging the sheet loose from the bed, the sheet that still smelled like _them_ , Sam wrapped Dean's body carefully paying careful attention as though he wanted Dean to be comfortable. Before he covered Dean's face Sam had to lean down again, drawing in the scent of his brother for the last time. He touched Dean's freckles with his finger, whispered "I love you," and pulled the sheet across his brother's face. Sam didn't phone anyone, there was no point. He knew what he had to do and he didn't want anyone else along while he did it. Cradling his brother in his arms a final time, Sam walked out to the car and slid the shroud covered body into the back seat. He slid behind the wheel and drove. He didn't stop for hours. It was just another desperate attempt to escape something that couldn't be outrun.

When Sam finally stopped the car he was down a back road and with only the headlights to guide him he pulled a shovel out of the trunk and started to dig. Sam learned that night how long it takes to dig a grave by yourself; it took three hours and ten minutes for Sam to dig a grave for the man he loved. It took forty-five minutes for him to stop crying, half an hour for him to work up the courage to pull Dean's body from and car and it was almost dawn by the time he could finally let go. The first shovel of dirt was the hardest and when it fell on the sheet it outlined his brother's face and Sam's heart cracked apart. For the longest time he couldn't see through his tears as he shoveled and kicked and threw dirt in the grave; anything to get it over with. Eventually, exhausted, filthy, and broken he fell asleep next to the grave with his brother's jacket pulled up over his face.

The first day without Dean was perfect for the first ten seconds. Sam woke up, eyes closed and waited for Dean's kiss on his cheek, the feel of his brother shifting beside him. When reality sank back onto Sam's chest like a lead weight he wanted to bolt, get away from himself, from everything. But, there was one more thing to do. After stumbling around in the trees for a few minutes, Sam emerged with two semi-straight branches and using some rope from the back of the car he fashioned a cross. Once the cross was firmly planted in the ground Sam slid behind the wheel of the car and drove back the way he had come.

Sam went right back to the Motel room his brother died in. The key to the room was still in his pocket, their things _his_ things were still strewn about the room. The only reminder of what had happened was the missing sheet from the bed. One of the first things Sam noticed was his brother's notebook. Something bitter pinched in Sam's chest and he walked over to snatch the book up. Dropping down onto the bed, Sam started to flip through the worn pages; Dean had spent so much time turning these pages, writing, taping things into the book. Sam hadn't looked; he hadn't really had reason to. He knew there was one item on each of their lists that was left to complete. Two items that never _would_ be completed. Sam's long fingers slid down the edge of the book, flipping each page carefully. Some of Dean's notes made him smile, some of them brought fresh tears to his eyes; the photos, _God_ the photos made Sam's stomach clench so tight he almost doubled over. He wanted Dean's arms around him so badly he could almost feel them. It hurt. It ached so bad that Sam felt like he was going to bed sick but he kept turning the pages.

The worst part was turning to the final page and finding his name... scrawled in his brother's handwriting.

 __

 _Dear Sam,_

 _I guess since you’re reading this then I must no longer be there with you. If that’s not the case, then put down the notebook and back away because seriously I will kick your ASS if I find out you’re reading this before… Ok we’re going to just assume my time has come because we both know that’s an empty threat and you’re probably rolling your eyes just thinking about it. That’s a deadly thing, the paten Sammy eye roll, remember to use it wisely in the future._

 _There’s only one item left on my list and it’s not something I can do alone. I’m going to need your help to make my final wish come true. In case you’re being lame and pretending you don’t know what I’m talking about, that thing on my list is make sure you’re gonna be okay without me. Clearly it’s not something I can do now, that time has passed, so I’m going to need you to make it happen. Consider it my dying wish._

 _Fact is, I love you Sammy, I always will, and I know how horrible you must be feeling right now. I only had to deal with your death for a day but I will always remember that heart wrenching type of pain. And I’m not gonna spout some shit at you saying it’ll take time to mend your wounds, you already know that. I need to request something from you Sam. Don’t let me die in vain. I made this deal so you could live and I want you to do exactly that._

 _Alright, I know you’re probably pissed at me by this point. So let’s start with that. Go hunt something. Kick its ass. Get some of that anger out of your system. And if you’re still feeling angry after that, go to a gym and take it out on a punching bag. Now this is a command as your brother, you do what you have to do to get that anger out. Pretend the bag is me if need be, curse and yell and whatever else might help. Just don’t let it consume you, it’s going to be one of the harder things to get passed but I know you can._

 _Once you do, I’m fairly certain the grief will be more intense than anything you can imagine. Even more than the anger. This next bit I say as your husband. Let yourself cry. Take our pictures, my leather coat, whatever you want to bed with you and let it all go. Maybe you’ll cry for hours, maybe for days, whatever it is, you let it all out. Don’t hold anything back. And then when you’re done, sleep until you wake up, don’t set an alarm, don’t force yourself out of it. Just sleep._

 _Then you have to get up Sam. You have to get up and shower, go eat some rabbit food, and carry on with your life. I’m not saying you have to keep hunting, hell, I’d almost rather you didn’t. Do whatever it is that YOU want. Make yourself a list and strive to cross those things off. Go back to school. Or write a book. Or learn to fly a plane. Or eat only chocolate for a day – though, take it from me, the idea is clearly overrated. The point is that you DO things. For me Sammy? Don’t give up on life. I NEED you to live for me. I know it’s selfish, but can you do that for me Sam?_

 _Remember that I will always love you. Even if I can’t tell you every day, it never stops being true._

 _You are forever mine._

 _Your brother, Your husband, Your lover,_

 _Dean_

 

Sam didn't go on a hunt or to a gym. Sam destroyed the motel room. Rage like he had never felt before flooded through his body. What he could break, he broke, what he couldn't break he threw and when he had no strength left he spent a frantic few minutes trying to find the notebook again. He was crawling around on the floor shoving things out of the way, swearing and yelling but when his fingers finally latched onto the notebook again the anger left his body. Sam started to cry, gasping in huge breaths, barely able to swallow and not caring anymore if he even could. Crawling onto the overturned mattress Sam clutched the notebook against his chest and cried.

The horrible thing about life was that it just kept on going. Everything around Sam seemed the same, as though nothing had changed; the diners were the same, the highways still went on forever, the rumble of the engine was as soothing as it had always been. But - Sam was different. It was weeks before Sam could say _I_ instead of _we_. He was sure he would never again wake up and feel content because each morning his body remembered that Dean should be there right by his side. The smell of his brother had faded slowly from the leather jacket but Sam still slept with it beside him on the pillow. Sam didn't smile as much anymore and when he did it wasn't the same. There were no more all night movie sessions and takeout food from local diners; Sam watched the news channel and bought salads and sandwiches from the grocery store. Sam didn't hunt but he didn't stop driving. It was almost as though he were afraid to stop moving, afraid that if he stopped everything would catch up with him and he'd start to fall apart again.

A month passed, thirty days, Sam knew because he was still counting everything in the time Dean had been gone. He found himself wondering vaguely if that would ever change. Oddly enough, it did change, Sam just wasn't aware of it at first. Oh he still ached for his brother, but the human body and mind have a remarkable capacity for becoming accustomed to pain. By the time Sam called Bobby for the first time since his brother's death, he was able to say Dean's name without crying. He told Bobby about Dean's letter; how his brother had told him to do something with his life. Sam told Bobby that he was going to find a job somewhere, a small town maybe, and trying just living for a while. Sam told Bobby he thought, maybe, he could carve out some kind of life. There were lots of things that Sam didn't tell Bobby but that was okay. He just kept a lot of things to himself; locked up somewhere safe inside.

Two months passed and Sam found a job working at a bookstore in a small town in Northern Washington. He found himself a place on the outskirts of town. It rained a lot there but he liked the rain; the smell reminded him of his brother. Things had changed again. Every-so-often when Sam thought of his lover he could smile; he still flipped through Dean's notebook to look at the photos but now it was because he wanted to see his brother's face again. He worked, he slept alone, he ate his _rabbit food_ and he missed Dean. The ache lessened and eventually, Sam just expected it to be there - it was part of him. It was like wearing a piece of jewelry; if the ache hadn't been there he would have felt as though he was missing something.

On the two month anniversary of Dean's death, Sam got himself a cheeseburger and a zombie movie. He didn't mind the taste of the burger, which surprised him but he didn't like the movie much. Either way, he thought it would have pleased Dean and that put a smile to Sam's face and a lump in his throat. Sam allowed himself a few minutes with the notebook that night; he'd been trying not to flip through it every night. It seemed wrong somehow to keep re-living the memories on the pages. Tonight was a special occasion. Sam's eyes welled up a little when he got to the photos from the hot spring and he closed the book and set it on the night table. These days, Sam often fell asleep fully clothed - sometimes he was reading a book, sometimes mucking about on the laptop but often, he was just lying there, in the dark. He knew that Dean wanted him to live, go out and do things, meet people _Jesus Christ_ , but this was one time he was pretty sure he would have to let his brother down. He breathed, he ate, he worked and he slept but beyond that there wasn't much. Sam was a bit numb. Maybe it would change; maybe it wouldn't. He had nothing to compare it to; he'd never lost the only person he loved before.

The man appeared in the dark room and took a moment to glance around the space, quietly observing his surroundings before stepping toward the sleeping figure on the bed. "Sam Winchester," he said, voice firm and rough. When the body only slightly stirred he repeated the name, much louder so the walls seemed to shake. "Wake up Samuel."

Sam's eyes shot open and his arm darted under the pillow for the knife Dean always kept there. Of course, there was no knife; it was in the trunk of the car. Slowly pushing up, he shifted back away from the figure in the room moving across the bed. "W..Who are you?"

"I am an angel of the Lord," the man said and stepped back slightly. His eyes fixed steadily on Sam, "I have come here to request your help."

Sam rubbed his eyes, convinced he was starting to lose his mind. "I'm gonna," he squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, "y... you're a what?" His eyes moved to the duffel by the door, his gun was still in the outside pocket if he could get over there. Sliding his long legs over the edge of the bed, Sam pushed up to his full height.

"An angel of the Lord," he repeated, letting his eyes flicker to the place Sam had looked. "You could try to harm me but it would do you no good. I have come for on this very night a seal has been broken. This seal marks the beginning of the end, sixty six seals that once broken, will release Lucifer from his hold and allow him to reign on this earth. You must stop it."

Blinking, Sam squared his shoulders, "you got the wrong guy, I'm out of the game." Sam walked past the intruder and unzipped the outside pocket and pulled out the gun. "Get out."

Staring at him with disinterest, the angel shook his head. "If you shoot me, I will not die. You will only harm the vessel in which I currently reside," taking a step forward, he held out his hand for the weapon. "You are the only one who can stop this Sam. You _must_ stop it."

Cocking the gun, Sam leveled it at the guy's chest. "Get. Out." Sam knew that his past as a hunter would come back to bite him in the ass sometimes, but _tonight_ was not the night for this.

With a slight sigh, he shook his head once more. "Must I prove it to you Sam? So little faith. Once you regarded us all highly," closing his eyes, the angel bowed his head and let his wings flash into sight, stretching across the room in a quick flutter.

Stumbling back a few steps, Sam flinched and the gun started to shake in his hand. There were some things that defied description and these wings, well; it wasn’t like they were actually there. It was as though Sam just had the _sense_ of them being there. Just as quickly as they appeared they were gone. The lingering feel of awe remained. "I... I don't understand. What do you want? I..." His voice was pinched tight. "I don't hunt anymore... since... "

"We understand your loss Sam," the angel folded his hands together in front of him, looking into Sam's eyes with serious eyes. "But this is a mission you cannot deny. It is you alone that can stop this from happening, the fate of the world depends upon it." After a moment of quiet observation the angel continued, "On this note, we are prepared to offer you... a reward for your efforts. We are even willing to give it to you immediately, as it is believed it will aid in your work."

"I don't need anything; you can't give me anything I want." Sam dropped the gun to his side. "And you do _not_ understand my loss - don't you _dare_..." Sam ran out of steam. "Leave me alone, I can't, I can't do it anymore." Hunting had never been Sam's thing, it had been what Dean did and it was what Sam did so he could be with Dean.

"It is of your loss we can understand," shifting his shoulders, the angel stepped back. "And we are prepared to give you what you want the most. I shall return once it is done and we will speak further on the subject." And with that, the angel was gone.

Sam's hands were still shaking as he looked around the room. It took him a while to be able to move and when he did - it was to do something he hadn't done in two months. Sam grabbed a container of rock salt out of the duffel and ran lines in front of the windows and doors. He slipped outside into the night air and opened the truck of the car to retrieve the silver knife and went back inside, locking the door behind him. Pulling on his brother's jacket, Sam slid the knife under the pillow, the notebook into the inside jacket pocket and left the gun on the bedside table. Only then did Sam lie down on the bed and curl up, staring at the door until he fell into a fitful sleep.

It was not as if Dean had simply gone to sleep and woke up in a box. In fact, he felt a little like he was shoved through a meat grinder and thrown out the other side, where he landed in a box. This box, it turned out, was his coffin. There was no humanly possible way he could explain the way his mind struggled to catch up with itself. Question after question slammed forward even as he shifted back and forth, trying to figure out how to get _out._

How long had he been dead? Long enough obviously for Sam to bury him. And even though he had insisted the man salt and burn his body, he was not really that surprised that he hadn’t. Of course Sam was his first thought, because Dean was _alive_ and he shouldn’t have been. If Sam had figured out how to bring him back though, why had he left him in this grave to dig his way out? That didn’t seem much like his brother.

His husband.

Damn, Dean needed to get out of this box as fast as possible.

Crawling out of your own grave will change a person. It changed Dean but his brain had yet to have enough time to process just _how_. By the time he reached the surface he was bleeding and sore but the fresh air was like honey dripping across his lips, circling through his mouth and down into his lungs where it _burned_. Dean was in the middle of nowhere and everything around him in a circular radius was dead. “Okay…” he whispered the word, surprised at how deep and gruff his voice sounded in the silence.

There was nothing around him for miles. This Dean learned as he walked along a dirt road. His legs were stiff from their lack of use and by the time he reached the abandoned gas station the sun had traveled halfway across the sky. For being abandoned, the station had a surprising supply of food and water. Dean drained two full bottles of cool liquid before stumbling to the bathroom.

He didn’t look at himself in the mirror until after he’d relieved his bladder. Even then he washed the dried blood from his hands without looking up, almost scared of what he might see staring back at him.

When he did manage to drag his eyes up, Dean was simply looking at himself. A little dirtier than usual but his skin was pale or sunken in like he thought it should have been. He washed his face slowly and his mind chanted _Sam, Sam, Sam._ There wasn’t the slightest idea in his head of how he would find him, just that he had too. Right _now._

Heading back out to the gas station Dean helped himself to a bar of chocolate, moaning at the taste. Immediately followed by the painful clenching of his heart as he remembered the amused looks Sam had given him on the day he’d eaten only the sugary substance. After a moment Dean dropped the candy and reached for a bag of sour cream and onion chips instead.

The sun was setting and Dean considered his options. They were limited to say the least. After a thorough – and futile – search for the phone, he sighed heavily and looked around. He was just beginning his search for something that could be used as a weapon when the screech happened. It was so loud Dean had to crouch down into a ball and cover his ears, eyes snapping shut when the glass around his shattered into a million sprays of tiny icicles.

When he stood he was in a city, behind an alley of a large stone building. It was dark and for all he could tell, there was no one around. Dean’s mind spun with confusion and he waited for several long minutes to determine what to do next. In the end he settled for heading for the street. Clearly he’d make no sense of things waiting in the alley for an explanation.

He walked out into a residential neighborhood and frowned. Whatever had brought him here clearly was a little off their mark, Dean didn’t know anyone who… unless… His eyes skittered across the house, landing on the one he’d appeared behind. It was small, fairly similar in appearance to the others that lined the streets. There was nothing that said this house should be any different but Dean couldn’t think of any other reason he might be here. So he slowly walked up the front walk, onto the porch.

For a moment he simply leaned forward, resting his ear against the door and listening. The sound of the TV was all he could hear, voices from it low and humming. Then that desire to find out if Sam was inside gripped him so tightly he jammed his finger into the buzzer and stepped back, pulling in a breath and holding it until he heard the lock turn and watched the door handle shift. Then the wood was being pulled open and he let out the breath in a steady stream, eyes settling on familiar boots and skidding up long legs, a firm chest, until they fixed on shocked hazel eyes. “Sammy…” he whispered, heart lurching so fast in his chest it practically hurt.

If Sam had any hope left - it shattered the moment he saw his brother's face. _Now_ he knew there was something wrong. Staggering back into his living room Sam held up the silver knife with one shaking hand eyes darting to the floor to check the salt line in front of whatever creature had shown up looking like his brother.

"Whoa, hey Sam it's okay, it's me I swear," Dean crossed into the house, glancing down at the line of salt with a frown. "Is something hunting you?" He looked around the small house with curious eyes before fixing back on his brother. He could understand Sam's level of disbelief, in fact he didn't quite believe it himself yet, so his smile was hesitant. "I can prove it to you." Dean's fingers itched for Sam's touch, eager to pull him forward the moment he could with the threat of a weapon.

"Y..You're not... my... " Sam's hand continued to tremble, the knife glinting in the light from the overhead light. "Get out..." Tears welled in Sam's eyes. It was too much, _today_ , someone's idea of the ultimate punishment for one of the infamous Winchesters. Sam stumbled another step backward.

 _"Sammy, it's me," Dean said again, wetting his lips. "Me. Dean. Your brother. Your _husband_. We got married in Kaslo. We made love on the banks of a hot spring. And before that we went around doing all the things on my list. Our... our rings," he held up the hand with his ring, touching it softly. "They say Amor ad Aeternam. And that amulet you’re wearing, you gave it to me for Christmas one year." Swallowing roughly, Dean's eyes began to water. "Do you need more? I can... I can say more. Our first kiss was in Vegas only it sort of blew up in our faces. Our second kiss, that I really consider our first, was in a condo in Vail during Jeepers Creepers," taking another step forward, Dean held out his hand slightly. "Please Sammy, I don't know why, or how, but I'm alive. I'm here."_

The words did two things to Sam; they drew a sob from him and spurred him forward. Launching himself Sam swiped at the hand that was held out to him with the silver knife. Somewhere in the recesses of his mind he knew that a shapeshifter would die from the cut of a silver knife. But, Sam was unbalanced, and the knife did little damage except to slice open a thin line across the other man's palm.

"Okay, ow," Dean looked at the blood for a moment before looking up at his brother. "But smart. It's good to see you're covering your bases," Dean smiled softly and stepped forward, arms extending out. "Sammy..." he whispered, taking another step in and reaching up to tentatively touch the side of his face.

Sam took one step forward before his knees gave out and he fell straight against his brother. "Dean?" It wasn't really a question; there couldn't be any other explanation, the line of salt, the silver knife. As soon as they collapsed onto the floor Sam's hands fluttered up to Dean's cheeks, "y... you're a dream...” his eyes were glassy, wet, "it's because, it's because it's been two months and... and...” Sam squeezed his eyes closed and shifted back a little. "I wanna wake up. I c..can't do this. It took me so long, _so_ long t..to get here, I..."

"Oh Sammy," Dean dropped beside him, reaching out to try and comfort the sobs. "I'm not a dream. I'm really... two months? Really? I've been gone... wow..." Dean shook his head, deciding he'd think about things later when Sam was a little better. "I swear I'm no dream. Kiss me. I won't disappear or vanish. Or, you know, pinch yourself or something." He smiled shakily at the suggestion, hand curving around his brother's shoulder and squeezing softly.

Sam did the first thing that popped into his mind, he leaned forward and buried his face in the man's neck and inhaled deeply. There it was, the smell that had faded away from the jacket, the smell that he was so familiar with he'd stopped noticing it until it was gone. Heaving in a lung full of air Sam clambered forward, pushing Dean back against the door and almost climbing on to his lap. His hands moved restlessly over Dean's body, checking, searching. It was like all those years ago when Dean would come back from a hunt and Sam, fifteen years old, terrified would search his brother's body to make sure he was okay, he was whole.

Biting down hard on his lip, Dean was hit with the sensations all at once. His body felt odd, different and off, like maybe he'd just gone to sleep yesterday and woken up today even though two months had passed without his heart beating or his blood bumping. But Sam was always a steady connection for him and he reached up with the hand that wasn't cut and he trailed fingers through Sam's hair. "It's longer. Haven't got it cut?" He asked softly, shifting up into Sam's hands slightly, rolling his hips beneath him to adjust to the hard wood surface.

Sam shook his head, tears rolling slowly down his cheeks. He swallowed and leaned his forehead against Dean's temple. "Dean, it's been..." his voice faded away and he slid to the side so he could see Dean's eyes clearly. His trembling hands settled on either side of his brother's neck. "Is it you?" Leaning in Sam pressed his dry lips against his brother's, brushing them slowly from side to side. His arms snaked around Dean's neck and he pulled him so tightly into the kiss he couldn't breathe.

Kissing Sam held all of that familiarity and comfort and Dean tangled his hand in silk hair, holding him close as their tongues slid together. He allowed Sam to kiss him with as much force as he needed, opening his mouth easily for him. Finally after a few long minutes he pulled back, gasping softly. "Yeah, it's really me. How... how is it even possible? What brought me back?" He knew Sam surely hadn't, otherwise the man wouldn't have been so completely shocked to see him.

Tilting his head to the side, Sam frowned. "There... was a man here, he said..." Sam didn't even know what was real and what was a dream anymore. He slipped away from Dean and looked around the room. "He said he was an Angel, there was a job ... a thing." He blinked up at his brother, "I told him I didn't hunt anymore." Sam couldn't stop shaking, "he said he'd give me a reward, what I wanted." Sam reached up and grabbed Dean's shirt. "Dean I tried. I tried to do what you wanted..." Sam's eyes were wide, darting around Dean's face.

"Hey, Sam it's okay," Dean wrapped an arm around him and pulled him close, breathing into his hair. He decided to shelve the discussion of the supposed angel for a bit until their minds had both had a chance to take in what was happening. "So this is your house? What city are we in? What do you do if you don't hunt?" He pulled back, hand tracing along Sam's face, drinking him in.

"I.. I rent this place... do work on the house. I work in a bookstore. I didn't want to hunt... without..." Sam's fingers moved to Dean’s hand, holding it in both of his own and turning it first one way, then the other. "We're in Maple Falls," a confused expression settled onto his face. "How did you get here?"

Dean shrugged slightly. "I don't know... I mean. I woke up in my coff... well... then I sort of clawed my way out and there was this gas station," Dean stared down at the red line on his hand. "Then all I remember is this incredibly loud screeching and suddenly I was behind your house. I should wash this off," he lifted up his hand, something odd stirring in him at the sight of the blood. "If I'm what you wanted then that... maybe that thing..." he shrugged again, looking back up at Sam. "I have no idea what brought me back. What's even powerful enough to do something like that?"

With his hands still moving over Dean's, Sam looked down. "I..I don't know. Are you... is this permanent?" Sam couldn't think of a more cruel punishment. If some _thing_ gave him Dean back only to tear them apart again Sam... would die. His fingers tightened around his brother's hand and he fell back against the door beside him. "The bathroom is down the hall... on the right."

"I'm thinking it's permanent... I feel... I don't know how to describe. Like whatever brought me here..." he shrugged and pushed up, heading down the hall toward the bathroom. Dean left the door open, simply running his hand under the water and wincing slightly at the sting. After a moment he tugged off his over shirt and set it to the side, leaning down to splash water on his face. When he stood again something in the reflection caught his eye and he shoved up his sleeve, blinking in confusion at the scared flesh in the shape of a hand. "Sam..." he said softly, turning and walking back into living room, sleeve still raised eyes wide with shock as he met his brother's gaze.

"What..." Sam pushed up off the floor and took a step closer, letting his hand slide over the mark on his brother's arm. It was smaller than Sam's hand, raised like a burn and yet shiny and smooth like it was already healing. "Does it... hurt?" Sam's faced grimaced when he realized he was already touching the strange mark.

"No," Dean shook his head, looking down at the flesh. "I didn't even know it was there... do you think it's from... I mean it has to be from whatever pulled me out," Dean frowned and looked back up at Sam, body shaking slightly. "Sam... do you think there's something evil about me? That they... infected me or something..." His eyebrows pulled together, stomach churn in disgust at the thought of how tarnished he might be.

Scrubbing his hand over his face, Sam shrugged helplessly. "Dean, I have _no_ idea." He swallowed, "I need... I need to sit down." Sam brushed past Dean and moved down the hallway in to the small living room. He looked around the room quickly; everything looked so normal, the same as when he'd arrived home that day. Dropping his face into his hands Sam rocked slowly back and forth, half of him wondering if Dean would appear in the doorway behind him, the other half believing he would disappear again.

Dean followed slowly, trying not to let sadness consume him. This was definitely not the way he'd imagined his welcome back, but then, Dean was fairly certain he didn't imagine one. He stood beside the edge of the couch, staring down at Sam, wishing he knew what to say to make this all better, to bring them back to where they were. Only he _died_ and he left Sam alone for two months and things couldn't just suddenly be okay again.

"You're not evil," a deep voice said from across the room and Dean moved almost instantly, dragging Sam up and sliding to stand protectively in front of him. "Don't worry Dean, I mean neither of you harm. After all, I am the one who brought you back from hell. Why would I do that only to harm you?"

"Well you'd be surprised how twisted some people can be," he glanced at Sam over his shoulder. "This the guy you saw?"

Sam's fingers moved unconsciously to hook through Dean's belt loop. "Yeah, that's him."

"Whatever it is your sellin' pal, we're not interested," Dean stepped back slightly so he could feel the heat of Sam's body, comforting and reassuring.

The angel shook his head. "I have kept my word Sam. I gave you what it was you wanted most. Dean has returned to this world. There is no deal, and no demons will be able to touch him, he is safe. Now you must do what is needed. You must stop the seals."

"Seals?" Dean turned once more to look at Sam with confused eyes.

"He said, there were seals... they're being broken." Sam shook his head and stepped out from behind Dean. "Are you going to take him away from me again," he gestured toward his brother.

Shaking his head once more, the angel folded his hands together in front of him. "No Sam, Dean is here to stay. Together you shall both stop the apocalypse from happening."

Dean's hand curved around Sam's waist, squeezing slightly. "And if we do, then what? You'll leave us alone? And I'll still be here, no strings attached."

With a slight frown, the angel cocked his head to the side, "I am not trying to trick you. When Sam has stopped the seals from being broken, then your part in this shall be finished. You will be free to live your life as you see fit. You surely understand how important this is, considering what we have... allowed to be, what we have given you that we normal would never condone, let alone aide."

"And what if we... can't do it?" Sam stared into the ice blue eyes, "what if we can't stop this from happening, then you take him away from me?" Sam knew he sounded juvenile. He knew that he shouldn't be so concerned about himself, about Dean, if this _angel_ was telling the truth then the end of the world might be slightly more important.

The angel huffed out a quick breath before answering. "Dean is here to stay. I promise you no one shall be sending him back regardless of what should play out. But failure is not an option. You will stop this." Looking up at them both, the angel took a step forward. "I shall provide information as I can. Until I return, it is my suggestion that Dean rest and prepare himself for the battle that is to come."

Dean rolled his eyes, sighing softly, "Yeah, thanks for that."

"Okay," Sam stepped to the side blocking the angel’s view of his brother. "Okay." He just wanted him gone. He wanted... to be alone with his _husband_.

"As you wish," the angel nodded and slid back a step. "I shall return with more in a few days." His eyes lingered on the two men and then he was gone.

"Whoa," Dean's hand slid to the curve of Sam's back naturally. "God that guy was... an angel. Seriously," Dean grinned slightly and ruffled Sam's hair. "You must be pretty important if they were willing to drag your husband/brother from hell for... good," Dean was a little bit hysterical from all this information, and giddy with the thought of not having to worry about hell chasing him down once more. "Oh god Sam..." he whisper, stepping around his body to press flush against him.

"Dean... I'm sorry, I'm sorry I couldn't get you back. I didn't try... you said, you wanted me - and I didn't know how to do things without you here..." Sam sank against his brother.

Wrapping his arms tightly around Sam, Dean shook his head slowly, "Shh it's okay, I did want you to move on. I never even thought there would be a way to get me back. This was... not expected. But we can be grateful for it. We'll do whatever that angel guy wants and then we'll be done. No more hunting." His hands cupped along Sam's face, bringing him up to look into his eyes. "It'll just be you and me. My husband," he smiled softly and leaned in to brush their lips together.

The touch was insanely overwhelming, Sam's muscles weakened a little and he almost felt like he was going to fall. His hands settled on his brother's strong shoulders and he pulled back slightly. "Dean? What was it like?" He didn't know why it should even matter but it did. It _very_ much mattered to Sam what his brother had been through in Hell. After all, Sam hadn't been able to keep Dean with him.

The little flashes of memory that occasionally surfaced in Dean's mind throughout the course of the day weren't much to go on but Dean could put the pieces together and he wasn't very certain he wanted to remember the rest. "It was... Hell. Torture, pain, I can't remember much of it," he shrugged and looked down, eyes darting across the floor before looking back up. "I think it was longer there, then just a few months. It feels like it was longer."

Sam's lashes settled against his cheeks for a few moments then he lifted his gaze to his brother's again. "It felt like longer here too." Sam threaded his fingers through Dean's and tugged his toward the living room door. "You need anything? Hungry? Thirsty? Or... tired?" Sam had no idea if Dean would even want to sleep but Sam was very nearly ready to pass out from exhaustion. The day had started off hard enough. "It's two months today," he murmured.

"Yeah… you said that..." Dean wet his lips, trailing after Sam. "Sleep sounds okay. I'm... I don't think I'm quite ready for food and well... I want..." he shrugged, a small smile dancing across his lips as Sam led him toward the bedroom. His eyes landed on the notebook almost instantly and he couldn't resist walking toward it, fingers trailing along the familiar cover.

Sam sat down on the edge of his bed, the bed that he had _never_ shared with Dean. "I tried not to go through it all the time," his eyes darted to the worn cover and the tattered pages, "but sometimes," his voice broke, "it was _so_ hard." His hands were twisting together in his lap and he stared down at them.

Dropping beside him on the edge of the bed, Dean reached out to take his hands. "I'm sorry Sam, that you had to suffer so much alone," he squeezed the fingers beneath his and leaned forward to rest his head on Sam's shoulder. "Should I... would it be easier if I slept on the couch? I don't want to push you into... I mean... I didn't even ask if this was still... if you were..." Dean didn't even know how to get his words out, fumbling over everything as his brain still struggled to rectify the situation.

"No," Sam blurted out. After all, there was still a tiny part of his mind that wondered if his brother would be yanked away again. "No," he said, softer, drawing out the word a little and turning to rub his lips across his brother's hair. "You... you smell like the ground..." Sam shuddered, remembering the night he dug his brother's grave. How would he ever get that to _leave_ his mind?

Shrugging softly, Dean stared down at their hands. "Well, I had to dig out of my coffin and through however many feet of dirt. I wouldn't say no to a shower but I'm pretty tired too. It's weird, to want everything all at once. It's like my body knows that it's been out of commission for two months and it doesn't know whether to get clean, get fed, get sleep or get sex," he blinked at the word he hadn't been meaning to say and looked up at Sam. "Not that we... you know. My mouth filter's off."

Sam shook his head, "no..." He pushed up from the bed, "I have clean towels, you should shower." He walked a few steps and turned, gesturing toward a door, "the bathroom's there, I'll bring you a towel." He strode out of the room and headed down the hall to the linen cupboard yanking the door open. He pulled out a dark green towel, _green_ , because they reminded him of his brother's eyes. Moving back to the bedroom he held the towel out to Dean, eyes darting around the room. He'd need to find some extra pillows for the bed, and there were no clothes for Dean. "I... I only kept a few of your shirts. I can find them tomorrow." Sam's whole world was upside down.

Dean curled his fingers around the towel and stood up. "Alright. Uh... can a borrow a pair of your boxers?" It was odd, the way they kept shifting through emotions, neither really certain how the other fit together. Dean hated it. He felt off and uncomfortable in his own skin, not at all like he should feel with Sam right there with him. When Sam held out a clean pair of boxers he took them with a nod and a smile and headed for the bathroom.

Sam stared at the bathroom door for a while after it closed behind Dean. He felt like he was in some sort of crazy dream that he couldn't wake up from. Knowing that he was wide awake was the worst part. He had spent two months, sixty days, every waking moment trying to _let go_ of his lover and now... and now. Sighing, Sam pushed up off the bed and walked over to the dressed pulling out a drawer and dragging out a pair of sweats for Dean. He thought about it for a few moments then pulled out his pajama bottoms. As he changed into his pajama pants he wondered about what would happen now. He had a lot more questions than he had answers, but then, that's how they'd lived most of their lives. Sam tugged off his t-shirt and sat down, pulling his socks off. He waited, nervous, sitting on the side of the bed until he heard the shower turn off. When Dean walked back into the room Sam was still clutching the sweats in his hands.

It hadn't really occurred to Dean that Sam might have actually been moving on with his life until he was in the shower. Now it was all he could think about. How could he just abandon the man by dying, then come back two months later and try to thrust himself back into Sam's life. It wasn't fair. Maybe Sam had used the time to rethink things. Maybe he even _met_ someone. A nice, normal girl who wasn't off making deals and selling her soul. He rubbed the towel across his hair as he considered his brother on the bed curling his hand and slipping his ring back on. "Those for me?" He asked, gesturing to the sweat pants.

Sam looked up, momentarily puzzled then nodded as his eyes drifted back to the sweats. "Yeah, sorry, it's all I have right now - I can pick you up some clothes tomorrow." His fingers brushed Dean's as he hand over the pants. "You wanna...?" Sam gestured to the bed. _Christ_ , it was like starting over again.

Dean considered the sweats in his hand, nodding, "Yeah, sure." He thought about last time he'd slept in a bed with his brother, there'd definitely been a distinct lack of clothes. Dean stepped into the sweats, walking to the side of the bed Sam wasn't standing on and tugging back the covers. The mattress was soft and cool and Dean sighed quietly as he adjusted on it, careful to stay on his side as his brother slid under the blanket to join him.

Sam rolled closer and slipped his arm over his brother's waist. "I... I usually have your jacket here, on the pillow." He watched Dean's face in the dim light from the window, "it stopped smelling like you a long time ago but... I was used to it by then." Sam's fingers grazed gently over Dean's warm flesh, _so_ smooth. There were no scars anymore; all those lines that Sam had spent so much time memorizing were gone. His fingers curled into a fist. "You..." he swallowed, "you feel okay?"

"Yeah," Dean turned to look at Sam. "I feel... better. Being here with you," he slipped a few fingers through Sam's hair, letting through run through the familiar locks before he pulled back and ghosted a finger down his cheek. "It's really good to see you Sam. I know I thought about you, constantly, when I was..." he gestured with a wave of his hand. "I can remember that."

Sam closed his eyes, "I wish this had all never happened. I wish we could just closer our eyes and wake up in the morning and everything would be back the way it should always have been." Eyes opening again, he gazed at Dean's face. "Can I?" Sam moved as if to shift closer and waited, eyebrows raised questioningly.

With a soft smile, Dean reached out and slid his thumb along Sam's jaw. "You never have to ask. You're still very much the only one I want, that hasn't changed," he wet his lips slowly, letting his hand drop.

Wriggling closer, Sam rolled the final distance until he was half lying across his lover. His lips were a hair's breadth from Dean's and he could feel the warmth of his brother's breath puffing across his lips. "This... losing you, it broke my heart. Love you… so much." Sam's tongue darted out to wet his lips and grazed his brother's bottom lip. He moaned softly and held his breath for a few moments as the trembling began all over again in his body. "Don't... don't you _ever_ leave me again," he whispered as his lips pressed against the corner of Dean's mouth.

"Never," Dean whispered in return, head tilting up into Sam's gentle touches. "I'm here always, forever," he shifted his head so he could brush his lips against Sam's. "I love you Sammy," Dean breathed. He'd been the one to say it first and Dean pulled in the warmth those familiar words made him feel. It was a solid and true fact he could cling too.

Letting himself smile a little, believe a little, Sam dragged his tongue across Dean's mouth tasting the most familiar flavor. His throat closed up a little. "Dean," he murmured and his lips parted with a small puff of hot breath and he slanted his mouth over his brother's and kissed him. It wasn't the best kiss ever, Sam's aim was a little off and their teeth clicked together, but _God_ if it wasn't the most perfect thing that Sam had ever felt. The warmth of Dean's mouth, _the heat_ slowly chased away the memory of his cold flesh. The silky smooth feel of his skin pushed out the sensation of letting his brother go. The kiss brought Dean back to him, one slide at a time, and one brush of flesh against flesh.

Dean couldn't help his small moan, hands trailing over inch of skin he could reach. Just the slightest brush of Sam's lips was working to make him feel more whole, more human, as if Sam was the only one that could ever complete him. Though Dean was fairly certain he already knew that. They broke the kiss sometime later, lips slightly numb and tingly and Dean grinned at him, arm tightening around his shoulders. "So... I'm thinkin' I'm gonna make a list of all the countries I'd like us to go see. You know, after we save the world and all," he smirked, hand sliding into its preferred place in Sam's hair.

Sam's heart swelled in his chest, "I think," he cleared his throat quietly, "that's a really good idea."


End file.
